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Master William Mitten; 


OR, 

A rOlITH OF BRILLIANT TALENTS, 


WHO WAS 


RUINED BY BAD LUCK. 

EEV. AUGUSTUS B. LONGSTREET, D. D., LL.D., 


Author of '‘Georgia Scenes.” 



MACON, GEORGIA; 

J. W. BURKE & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS. 


1889 . 





i^ntered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1889, by 
J. W. BURKE A CO., 

In ihe Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D, C. 





' TO 

IDOCTOIi ECEasTR.-X’ HULL, 

OF ' • 

' ATHENS, GEORGIA. 

Allow me, my Highly Esteemed Friend, 

TO 

Inscribe this Unpretending Volume to You. 

You WILL Appreciate the Inscription 

BY 

The Spirit which Dictates it, 

And not by the Merit of the Work. 


THE AUTHOR.. 




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PREFACE. 


In 1849, I resided for a few months in Jackson, 
Louisiana. During my sojourn in that place, two 
meritorious young men, who had established a Press ' 
in the village, earnestly solicited me to write for it. I 
agreed to do so, and as a College and a number of 
admirable schools graced the village, I framed the 
story of Master Mitten, to induce the youth of the 
place to improve the opportunities which these insti- 
tutions afforded them of becoming useful and distin- 
guished men. Master Mitten and his mother are both 
imaginary characters ; but who that has had much to 
do with the instruction of youth has not seen both, at 
least in their leading traits ? 

I laid the scene of the story in Georgia, and took 
the liberty of introducing into it the names of several 
of my Georgian friends, giving a very slight touch of 
their characters in the conduct and language which I 
ascribe to them. This I did to increase the interest 
of the story to them, at least, should- it ever reach the 
State of Georgia. I deem it proper to mention these 
things, for the story having been broken off at the 
fifth chapter, by my departure from Louisiana, when 
it was resumed in Georgia for the Mdd and Fireside, 


PREFACE. 


Many finding these names in it, with some of the 
charaeteristics of those who bore them, supposed it to 
be a veritable history, which it is not. Master Mitten 
is introduced to Doctor Waddel’s celebrated School in 
Willington, A bbeville District, South Carolina, just as 
it was, from 1806 to 1809, inclusive. Sprague has 
given us a brief sketch of the Doctor’s biography, in 
which his merits as a Teacher and a Divine are gravely 
portrayed. Mitten shows the reader the man at the 
head of his school in its palmiest days. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


CHAPTEE I. 

Many yeaa?s ago there lived in a small village in 
the State of Georgia, a pious widow, who was left with 
an only son and two daughters. She was in easy cir- 
cumstances, and managed her temporal concerns witti 
great prudence, so that her estate increased with her 
years. Her son exhibited, at a very early age, great 
precocity of genius, and the mother lost no opportu- 
nity of letting the world know it. When he was but 
six years old, he had committed little pieces in prose and 
poetry, which he delivered with remarkable propriety 
for his years. He knew as much of the scrij^tures as 
any child of that age probably ever knew, and he had 
already made some progress in geography and mental 
arithmetic. With all this, he was a very handsome 
boy. It is not to be wondered at, that his mother 
should be bringing him out in some department of 
science, upon all occasions ; of course, she often 
brought him out upon very unsuitable occasions, and 
sometimes kept him out greatly to the annoyance of 
her company. Not to praise his performances, would 
have been discouraging to Master William Mitten, and 
very mortifying to his mother ; accordingly, whether 
they were well-timed or ill-timed, everybody praised 
them. The ladies, all of whom loved Mrs. Mitten, 
were not unfrequently thrown into raptures at the 
child’s exhibitions. They would snatch him up in 

( 7 ) 


8 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


their arms, kiss him, pronounce him a iDcrfect prodigy, 
both in beauty of person and power of mind; and 
declare that they would be willing to go beggars upon 
the world to have such a child. Others would piously 
exhort Mrs. Mitten not to set her heart too much upon 
the child. “ They never saw the little creature, with- 
out commingled emotions of delight and alarm; so 
often IS u the case that children of such wonderful 
gifts die early.’^ Her brother, Capt. David Thomson, 
a candid, plain dealing excellent man, often reproved 
Mrs. Mitten for parading j as he called it, ^^her child 
upon all occasions.’^ 

‘‘ Anna,’^ said he, ^^you will stuff your child so full 
of pride and vanity, and make him so pert and forward 
that there will be no living with him. From an 
object of admiration he will soon become an object of 
detestation.’’ 

“hTo danger, brother — no danger;” she would 
reply, “ I take special care to guard him against these 
vices.” 

At eight years of age, William was placed under the 
instruction of Miss Smith, the teacher of a female 
school, into which small boys were admitted by cour- 
tesy. Here he continued until his tenth year, when 
Miss Smith told his mother that he was getting too old 
to remain in her school, and that she could keep him 
no longer. Here Miss Smith whispered something to 
Mrs. Mitten which drew a smile from her, but which 
has ever remained a secret between them. It took 
about the time to deliver it, that it would take to say: 
“ the truth is, he is too pretty and too smart to be in a 
female school.” 

William being now out of employment, his mother 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


9 


took six months to deliberate as to what was next to 
be done with him ; and in the meantime she sent him 
in the country to stay with his grandmother. On his 
return she determined to place him under the tuition 
of Mr. Markham, one of the best of men, and best of 
instructors. Accordingly, she conducted him to the 
school room of his second preceptor. 

‘^You will find him, Mr. Markham,’^ said Mrs. 
Mitten as she delivered over her son to the teacher’s 
charge, “ easy to lead but hard to drive.^^ 

“ If that be the case. Madam,” said Mr. Markham, 
“I fear that your son will not do well under my 
government.” 

^•Why, surely, Mr. Markham, you don’t prefer 
driving to leading. 

^‘By no means. Madam — by no means. I much, 
prefer leading ; but no child of his age can be always 
led. Withal, a teacher must govern, by fixed rules, 
which cannot be relaxed in favor of one of his pupils, 
without rendering them worthless, or unjust to all 
the rest.” 

This took Mrs. Mitten a little by surprise ; for she 
supposed that Mr. Markham would be proud of such 
an accession to his school as William. She acquiesced, 
however, in the soundness of his views ; but fiatter- 
ing herself “ that he would never find it necessary to 
drive William,” she turned him over to the teacher 
and withdrew. 

William made his dqbut at school in a dress which 
was rather tawdry for Sunday, and extravagant for the 
school-room. The first ten or fifteen minutes were spent 
by William and the school boys in interchanging looks 
of admiration, which Mr. Markham indulged, under 


10 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


pretence of not observing. At length a pretty general 
titter began to run through the school at William’s 
expense. Mr. Markham now interposed, with a stern- 
ness that instantly brought all to order but William, 
who tittered in turn, at divers j)ersons and things. 
But this Mr. Markham happened not to notice. The 
object of William’s special regards and amusement was 
John Brown, whose clothes seemed to have been made 
of remnants of old bed-quilts, so numerous and parti- 
colored were their patches. John’s attitude was as 
curious as his dress ; he seemed to have derived it 
from the neck of a crane at rest. His head was flat 
and bushy, his feet were large and black, and his face 
bore a marked resemblance to that of a leather-winged 
bat. In all his life, William had never seen exactly 
such a thing as this ; and he laughed at it without 
stint and without disguise. John soon became indig- 
nant, and raising his book between his face and the 
teacher, he set his mouth to going as if repeating all 
the vowels and consonants of the alphabet in quick 
time, and shook his fist at William with a quiver of 
awful portent. According to the masonry of the school- 
room, these signs meant : “ Never mind, old fellow, as 

soon as schooVs out III male you laugh V other side of the 
mouth.^^ 

“ Come here, sir,” said Markham, who always saw 
more than he seemed to see. Who are you shaking 
your fist at, sirf ’ 

Mr. Markham, that fellow keeps laughing at me, 
sir.” 

“ And didn’t you laugh at him first f ’ 

I — I — laughed at him a little bit ; but he keeps at 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 11 

it all the time, He don’t do nothin’ else but keep’n’ 
on laughing at me all the time.” 

“Well, if you laugh at other people, you must let 
them laugh at you ; and now, sir, go to your seat, and 
if I catch you shaking your fist at anybody in school 
hours again, or using it upon anybody afterwards^ who 
has only paid laugh with laugh. I’ll shalce you.” 

There was a little spice of equity here, that John 
had entirely overlooked ; and he went to his seat much 
cooler than might have been expected. 

“Come here, William !” continued the preceptor. 
William did not move ; and the whole school was elec- 
trified at disobedience to Mr. Markham’s orders. 

“ Come here, 'Vyilliam !” repeated Mr. Markham but 
with no better success. Whereupon he rose, and com- 
menced Heading him, in quick time, to his seat. 
Having stationed him by it he said to him: “Wil- 
liam, I know you have been indulged so much tliat 
you hardly know the duty of submission to your teach- 
er’ s orders, or I would correct you for not coming to 
me when I called you. You must do as I tell you ; 
and I tell you now to quit laughing and get your les- 
son — ym., John Brown, are you tittering again already S 
Put down your feet and come here, sir f ’ Here Mr. 
Markham, by way of parenthesis, gave John three cuts, 
which sounded like a whip-poor-will, and made him 
dance a jig, a minuet and a polka, all in less than a min- 
ute. He retired crying, and limping, and rubbing, and 
shaking his bushy head like a muscovy drake in a pet, 
and Mr. Markham proceeded : “I tell you, William, 
you must obey me ” — 

“Yes, sir,” said William, i^ale as a sheet 


12 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


can have no little hoys with me who won’t do as 
I tell them ” — 

^^No, sir.” 

If you will he a good hoy, and mind your hook 
and your teacher, you need not he afraid of me. Go 
now and take your seat, and quit laughing, and get 
your lesson.’’ 

William obeyed promptly, and hardly took his eyes 
from his hook until the school was dismissed. 

During the recess he hegged his mother to take him 
away from Mr. Markham’s school. He said Mr. Mark- 
ham whipt his scholars, and he “ didn’t want to go 
to a man that whipt children.” 

‘‘But,” said his mother, “ you must he a good hoy^ 
and then he will not whip you. I’ve entered you now, 
and paid your first quarter’s schooling, and you must 
go to the end of the quarter.” 

William returned to school, and for several weeks, 
did remarkably well. He was put in a class with 
George Markham, son of the preceptor, a promising 
youth, hut equal to William in nothing hut attention 
to his studies. As William could get his lessons in half 
the time allowed him for this purpose, he soon began 
to neglect them, until the last moment from which he 
could commit them, and then to some time beyond the 
moment ; and here was the beginning of his had Inch. 
As he grew remiss, Mr. Markham counseled him, lec- 
tured him, and threatened him ; but all to no purpose. 
At length he told him that the next time he came to 
recite without knowing his lesson, he would correct 
him. This alarmed William a good deal j but not 
quite enough to stimulate his industry to continued 


MASTER }VILL1AM MITTEN. 


13 


exertion ; and after ten or fifteen lessons lie came np 
deficient again. 

^‘Why have you not got this lesson, sirf ^ said Mr. 
Markliam with terrific sternness. 

I — I — was sick, sir.’’ 

This was William’s first falsehood ; but it saved him 
from a whipping which he awfully dreaded ; for though 
Mr. Markham knew that he had not told the truths he 
deemed it best to admit the excuse, at least so far as 
to withhold the rod of correction for the present. 

As he dismissed the school, he told William to remain 
a few moments, and when they were alone, he thus 
addressed him : 

‘‘ William, I very much fear you told me a falsehood 
to-day. I saw you all the morning, before you came 
to recite, idling, and whispering, without any appear- 
ance of sickness ; and since the recitation I have seen 
no sign of sickness about you. Still, I may possibly 
be mistaken, and I hope I am ; but remember, if ever I 
find you telling a lie to hide your faults, I will punish 
you more severely than I would without the lie.” He 
then proceeded to counsel him kindly and affection- 
ately against the danger of lying. 

William went home in sadness and in tears, for his 
conscience gave him no rest. His mother sought in 
vain for the cause of his distress. The next day he 
went to the school and acquitted himself well for that 
and the four succeeding days, for which Mr. Markham 
gave him great credit and encouragement. On the fifth 
day he got permission to go out, and as he remained out 
an unusually long time, Mr. Markham went in quest of 
him, and found him in the act of concealing his book 
among some rubbish near the school house. He was 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


H 

unobserved by 'William, and be withdrew to the school- 
room. Just before recitation hour, William made his 
appearance. What he had been doing during his 
absence, was not known ; but that he had not been 
studying was manifest from his conduct, and still more 
manifest from his ignorance of the lesson when he came 
to lecite. 

What have you been doing, William,’’ said Mr. 
Markham, “ that you know nothing of this lesson?” 

‘‘ I lost my book, sir, and I couldn’t find it.” 

Mr. Markham passed the matter over until he dis- 
missed his school, when he detained William, told him 
where his book was, repeated his lecture upon lying, 
and enforced it with a pretty severe hogging. Wil- 
liam had never experienced the like of that before, and 
' probably would never have experienced it again but 
for the imprudence of his mother and her friends. He 
promised his preceptor that he would never repeat 
his otfense; and he w^ent home with a countenance 
and manner indicative of a fixed purpose to keep his 
promise. He told his mother nothing of what had 
happened, nor did she find it out for four days after- 
w^ards. In the meantime, William was all that she or 
his preceptor could wish him to be. It so happened, 
however, that Thomas Xokes had lingered about 
the school-house, and seen all that had transpired 
between William and his teacher. He went home 
where he found Mrs. Glib, one of Mrs. Mitten’s most 
devoted friends— as she proved, by carrying to her all 
news that was likely to affect her peace. Mrs. Glib had 
stopped on her way to her brother’s in the country to 
bid Mrs. Nokes farewell, and had actually risen to 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 15 

depart, when Tom stept in, big with the events of the 
day. 

“I tell yon what,’^ said he, Mr. Markham give 
Bill Mitten jorum, to-day.’’ 

It isn’t possible,” exclaimed Mrs. Glib, that Mr. 
Markham has whipt that dear, sweet, lovely boy.” 

Mrs. Nokes tried to catch Tom’s eye, that she might 
stop him ; but his whole attention was directed to 
Mrs. Glib, and he went on — 

Yes he did — and he linked it into him like flugins. 
I’ll be bound he made the blood come.” 

Here Tom caught his mother’s eye, which was dart- 
ing lightnings at him, and he concluded, “ hut I don't 
reckon he hurt him much, though .”’ 

Oh, the brute !” muttered Mrs. Glib, as she left the 
house for the carriage. 

On the afternoon of the fourth day from her depart- 
ure, she returned to the village, and immediately 
hastened over to Mrs. Mitten’s. Mrs. Mitten met her 
at the door very cheerfully, and very cordially. 

^Oh,” ejaculated Mrs. Glib, ‘‘how happy lam to 
find you so cheerful ! I was afraid I should find you 
in tears.” 

‘ ‘ In tears ! For what V ’ 

“ Why, for the unmerciful beating which Mr. Mark- 
ham gave to your dear, sweet, lovely little William, 
last Friday.” 

“Surely there must be some mistake, Mrs. Glib- 
William never said a word to me about it ; and not 
fifteen minutes before you came in, Mr. Markham was 
here congratulating me on the progress my child 
was making in everything that was good.’’ 

Here Mrs. Glib looked as if she had taken an emetic 


IG MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 

which was just about to operate ; and after a short 
pause, she proceeded : 

“ Well, I hope it is a mistake ; but it came to me 
from an eye witness. You know I don’t send my 
children to Mr. Markham because I don’t choose to 
have my children cut and slashed about like galley- 
slaves, for every little childish error they commit — 
breaking down their spirit, and teaching them sneak- 
ing and lying, and everything that’s low and mean. 
Mr. Toper never whips ; and I don’t see but that my 
children get along under him as well as other people’s 
children.” (Here Mrs. Mitten covered her face with her 
handkerchief, either to hide her grief or a smile which 
grief could not extinguish, or blushes of conscience 
for she had warned her son against ever associating 
with the Glibs). ‘‘But you know how strict Mrs. 
Nokes is with her children ; one of them would as soon 
put his head in the fire as tell a lie— specially before 
her. Well, Thomas told me, right in her presence, 
that Markham whipt William till he drew the blood 
from him !” 

“Mercy on me!” groaned Mrs. Mitten, “why 
didn’t William tell me of it 1” 

“Oh, that is easily accounted for. My George 
Washington Alexander Augustus says that John 
Brown told him, that ‘ if anybody went to carrying 
tales out of Mr. Markham’s school, he’d make ’em 
dance Poor William dare not tell of it. John 

said, moreover, that Markham dragged him from his 
seat the first day that he went to school, and would 
have whipt him then, if he had been in school a little 
longer.” 

“I fear,” said Mrs. Mitten with streaming eyes, 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


17 


^Hliat I offended Mr. Markham when I placed William 
under him, by telling him that William was easy to 
lead but hard to drive. He immediately showed some 
reluctance at receiving him. But I only meant to 
apprise him of the child’s disposition. Poor child, 
with all his talents, I fear he is doomed to had lucTc.^^ 

^^Oh, no, madam; I can explain the matter better 
than that. George Markham was given up on all 
hands to be the smartest boy in school. Now every- 
body knew what a prodigy William was, and old 
Markham knew that as soon as William entered the 
school^ his beloved darling., precious George, woxxXd. have 
to come down a notch. All the boys say that William 
is smarter than George, and yet that old Markham is 
always pecking at him. Who can’t see the reason 

Just at this moment William made his appearance 
with a bright and joyous face ; and holding up a most 
beautiful edition of Sanford and Merton. See, ma,’’ 
said he, ^^what Mr. Markham gave me to-day for 
keeping head of George three days. And he says if 
I’ll keep head of him eight days more, he’ll give me a 
book worth twice as much, and I mean to do it, too.” 

“ What hypocrisy !” exclaimed Mrs. Glib. ^‘He’s 
got wind of it !” 

^‘William,” said his mother, ^^did Mr. Markham 
whip you last Friday ?” In an instant his countenance 
fell^ and his eyes filled. 

‘^Yes, ma’am,” whispered William. ^^But I don’t 
think he will whip me again,’, for I mean to be a good 
boy.” 

“Poor, blessed, little innocent angel-lamb!” sighed 
forth Mrs. Glib with honest sympathy. 

“And haven’t you always been a good boy, my son?’^ 


18 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


''Ye-e-s’m’m.” 

Then what did he whip you for?” 

He said I told a lie, and wouldn’t get my lesson 

“Oh, shocking, shocking — worse and worse!” vocif- 
erated Mrs. Glib. “I’d stake my salvation on it, that 
child never told an untruth in all his life.” 

It was very unlucTcy for William, that Mrs. Glib made 
this remark ; aud still more unlucky that his mother 
did not suspend her examination here, until Mrs. Glib 
retired. 

“William, it would break my heart to discover that 
you had told a lie ; but if you have told one, confess 
it, my child, to your mother !” 

William paused and pondered, as well he might, for 
having Mrs. Glib’s salvation and his mother’s heart in 
one eye, and Mr. Markham’s awful lie-physic in the 
other, he was in the most perplexing dilemma. 

“ Don’t you see, Mrs. Mitten, that the child is actu- 
ally afraid to deny that he told a lie ? He knows that 
if it gets to Markham’s ears that he denied it, 
he’d beat him to death. Didn’t he whip you very 
severely, William?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Where did he whip you?” 

“On the calf of my legs.” 

“ Well, now, do let us examine them I I lay the 
marks of the whip are ui)on them to this day.” 

William’s pants were rolled up, and at the first 
glance, his legs seemed as white and as spotless as 
pure alabaster. But a glance did not satisfy Mrs. 
Glib. She was confident that William had received 
and that marks of it might yet be found. 
Accordingly, she put on her specs and squatted down 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 19 

to a close examination of 'William’s legs, beginning at 
the left. 

‘^Look here, Mrs. Mitten,’’ said she, after a short 
search, “ isn’t this the mark of a whip 

‘‘ K-no,” said Mrs. Mitten carelessly, I believe it’s 
nothing but a vein.” 

“It’s no vein, my word for it ; it’s too straight fora 
vein. I’m told that whip-marks, just before they dis- 
appear, can hardly be distinguished from veins.” 

Proceeding from the left leg to the right, she exam- 
ined for some time with no better success. At lengthy 
however, on the right side of the limb, she found 
the palpable marks of For reasons that 

need not be given, I hold myself perfectly competent 
to explain this matter with unquestionable accuracy. 
Jorum is always administered with a scarificator ; and 
in receiving it, it is almost impossible for the patient 
to keep his legs still. The consequence sometimes is, 
that fhe scarificator, which is made and intended to 
act simultaneously and equally upon both limbs, 
hardly scratches one, while it spends all its force 
(double force) upon the other. William had obvi- 
ously “ danced Juba” under the operation, and in 
three of his movements he had so distracted the istru- 
ment, that the end of it pressed much harder upon 
the flesh in these places than the operator intended, 
and of course, it left its most permanent mark where 
it pressed hardest. Nor is it true, as Mrs. Glib was 
informed, that its mark retires in likeness to a vein, 
but with a greenish, straw-color, as the case before 
her proved. 

Mrs. Glib had no sooner discovered these marks, 
than she went through divers evolutions of horror, 


20 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


better suited to the Inquisition than to this occasion. 
At length she became composed enough to speak. 

^‘Oh, Mrs. Mitten, see what your dear, lovely, bril- 
liant boy has suffered. Think of when it was done 

Mrs. Mitten looked, and burst into tears afresh. 
Just at this point, her daughters made their ai)pear- 
ance, and the matter being explained to them, they 
burst into tears ; and William seeing his mother and 
sisters weeping, he burst into tears. In the midst of 
this affecting scene, David Thomson, Mrs. Mitten’s 
brother, made his appearance, and he didn’t burst into 
tears. 

‘‘Why, what’s the matter — what’s to pay?” enquired 
he, with no little alarm. 

The ladies all answered at once, with different 
degrees of exaggeration, but all to the same point, 
mainly, that Markham had beaten William most 
unmercifully. 

“Why, nothing seems to be the matter with him, 
that I can see.” 

“ Look at his legs.” 

“ Well, I see nothing the matter with his legs.” 

“ Look at his right leg !” 

“ Well, I see nothing the matter with his right leg.” 

“ Look on the right side of his right leg.” 

“Well, I see nothing on the right side of the right 
leg.” 

“Look here, Mr. Thompson,” said Mrs. Glib, “bend 
down a little— do you see these marks?” 

“ Fsh-e-e-e-t ! Why surely you have all run crazy ! 
Is it possible you’re making all this fuss over these 
three little specks ?” 

“Those species, as you call them, brother, are the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


21 


remains of what was put on my child’s tender flesh 
four days ago.” 

And have you all just made up your minds to cry 
about it?’^ 

‘‘We did not know of it, brother David, before.” 

“ Why, didn’t William tell you of it ?” 

“ Ko, poor child, he hardly dare talk about it now. 
He is completely cowed. Since he went to school he 
seems to have been buried ; nobody notices, or speaks 
of the child, any more than if he were dead.” 

“Yes, there it is ! You have been feasting upon his 
praises so long, that you cannot live without them. 
What did Markham whip him for ?” 

“The charge was, telling a lie and neglecting his 
lessons.” 

“ Well, are you sure he did not tell a lie ?” 

“Oh, brother, how can you ask such a question 
right before the child’s face % Yes, I’m just as sure of 
it as I can be of anything. I never detected William 
in a lie in all my life.” 

“ No, nor you never will, the way you are going on, 
if he told a thousand. Now, if Markham whipt him for 
lying, 111 vouch for it, he told a lie, and Markham 
knew it 5 for he never moves without seeing his way 
clear.” 

“I think he has a prejudice against William, and I 
think I know the reason of it.” 

“Prejudice! He’s incapable of prejudice against 
anybody, much less against little silly children. I’ll go 
over and see him, and learn the whole truth of the 
matter.” 

“No, you needn’t trouble yourself, brother ; I shall 
not send William to school to him any longer.” 


22 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


“ Why, Anna, you surely are not going to take your 
child from school without hearing from Mr. Markham 
the particulars of this matter !” 

“ I don’t want any particulars, more than my own 
eyes have seen. Suppose the child actually did tell a 
lie, (which nobody, who knows him will believe,) it 
wouldn’t justify Mr. Markham in beating him to 
death.” 

Beating him to death? He’s certainly a very nat- 
ural looking corpse ! And when you take him from 
school, what are you going to do with him ?” 

^‘I’d rather send him to Mr. Toper, than have him 
cut and slashed to pieces by Markham.^’ 

“Toper ! What, that drunken booby, who hardly 
knows B from bull’s foot.” 

“Good morning, ladies!” said Mrs. Glib, “good 
morning. Captain Thomson.” 

“ Why, brother ! How could you talk so of Mr. 
Toper? Don’t you know that Mrs. Glib sends her 
children to him ? She’ll go right off and tell him what 
you said.” 

“No, I don’t know, nor don’t care where she sends 
them. All I know about them is, that Toper is a 
drunken fool, and that her children are perfect nuis- 
ances to the town ; and that if you mean to send 
your child to the devil. Toper is the very man to carry 
him for you. Mrs. Glib may tell him all' this too, if 
she chooses ; and then, if he opens his mouth to me 
about the matter. I’ll kick him out of the town, as a 
public charity.” 

“ I only said I liad rather send my child to Mr. Toper 
than to have him beaten so. I think I shall employ a 
private tutor.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


23 


And pay ten times as much as is needful for your 
child’s instruction ; and then have him not half as well 
taught as he will be by Markham ! Anna, I beseech 
you, I implore you for your child’s sake, don’t act at 
all in this matter under your present feelings. Let the 
matter rest until I can see Markham and learn the 
whole history of it. I know more of boys than you 
do. They do many things at school that they never 
do at home, for the plain reason that they are under 
many temptations at school which they are not under 
at home. You are probably now at the turning point 
of your child’s destiny, and one false step may ruin 
him forever.” 

Strange to tell, 'William listened to his uncle with a 
kind of approving amazement, and as soon as he had 
concluded, said : 

Ma, I’m willing to go back to Mr. Markham now; 
I a’nt afraid of him ; I don’t think he’ll ever whip me 
again.” 

^‘That’s a brave boy,” said the Captain. ‘‘Every 
word in the sentence is worth a guinea. I^o good boy 
fears Mr. Markham.” 

“Ah, poor child!” said Mrs. Mitten — “he knows 
little of the world’s duplicity. He little dreams of the 
undercurrent that is at work against him.” 

“ What undercurrent ! Is it possible, Anna, that 
after nine years acquaintance with Markham, you can 
suspect him of duplicity and secret hostility to such a 
child as that— child— wiy nephew !” 

“Mr. Markham’s not perfection, if what I’ve heard 
of him is true,” said Miss Jane. 

“Ko,” said Miss Ann, “and if I was ma, I’d die 


24 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


before I’d send Brother William back to him to be 
beaten like a dog.” 

And if I was ma I’d learn you to hold your tongues 
till your counsel was asked for.” 

Oh, do, brother, let the girls express their opinions, 
I should suppose that one might have an opinion, of 
even of Mr. Markham, without having their heads 
snapt off.” 

Well, Anna, I see your mind is made up to take 
William from Mr. Markham’s school.’’ 

“Yes, I’m resolved upon it.” 

“And without one word of explanation from Mr. 
Markham !” 

“ Yes ; I want none of his explanations.” 

“ Ma,” said William, “let me go back to the end of 
the quarter.” 

“Bravo, Bill ! Go back, my son — be a good boy and 
learn your book, and you’ll be a noble fellow by and 
by.” 

“ Brother David, do you think it right to encourage 
a poor little ignorant child to run counter to his moth- 
er’ s wishes ?” 

“No, Anna,* but I supposed that the wishes of the 
child in whom you are so much wrapt up might save 
you from rash resolutions concerning him.” 

“Well, it is not necessary to debate the jnatter 
further. I vow he never shall go back to Mr. Mark- 
ham’s school, and that is the long and short of it.” 

Captain Thompson wheeled off and left the house as 
if to get something of importance that he had left in a 
dangerous place. In about half an hour he returned ; 

“Well,” said he, “ I have seen Markham, and heard 
the whole matter explained.’’ 


MASTER WILLIAM iMlTTEK 


25 


And he gave it from first to last, just as it occurred. 
Still Mrs. Mitten adhered to her resolution. He argued, 
he entreated, he implored, he forewarned, he remon- 
strated, he used every means that he could think of to 
change her mind, hut to no purpose. The truth is, 
Mrs. Mitten would not place her son where he was 
liable to be whipt. Her brother left in a storm. 

I have been thus particular in giving this part of 
William^ s history, because it proved in the end, as the 
sequel will show, to be remarkably unlucky^ and fruit- 
ful of wonderful consequences. 

CHAPTEE II. 

The reader will remember that we left Mrs. Mitten 
resolved to remove Master William from Mr. Mark- 
ham’s school. Her resolution was carried into effect ; 
and she forthwith began to look out for a private 
teacher for her son. But unluckily no such teacher was 
just then to be found ; she was constrained, therefore, 
to advertise for one ; and though she placed her adver- 
tisement in three Gazettes, of pretty general circula- 
tion, three months rolled away before any one proffered 
his services to Master William. In the meantime our 
little hero was a gentleman at large ; and having 
formed many acquaintances at school, common cour- 
tesy required that he should give them as much of his 
attention as he could. Accordingly he was with them 
at every intermission of their studies, and took great 
pleasure in attending the evening parties of such as 
were smart enough to do without evening study. These 
soon became so frequent that William entirely neg- 
lected his mother’s parties for them j by means whereof 


26 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


his mother and her friends lost the entertainment which 
he used to afford them upon such occasions. She often 
demanded of him exi^lanations of his discourtesy to 
his old admirers, which he promptly gave to her entire 
satisfaction. Sometimes he was at the Juvenile Debat- 
ing Society : at others he was at a Prayer Meeting ; 
at one time he “ went to hear Parson Deleth’s Lecture.*’ 
(On the importance of the Oriental Languages to the 
student of Theology.) At another we went to hear 
the Euterpean band ; and at all other times he was 
taking tea with good boys, or engaged in some lauda^ 
ble employment. As the young Glibs had rather more 
leisure than any other boys in town, and as their mother 
had charged them to cultivate a close acquaintance 
with Master William, they were frequently thrown 
together. At first William was rather shy of those 
acquaintances ; but as they forced themselves into his 
company, pleading their mother’s order for so doing, 
he could not well refuse to take them under his moral 
training. Accordingly they soon became very inti- 
mate ; and William was pleased to find that they were 
by no means as bad boys as his mother took them to 
be. W^ithal he soon discovered that they were pos- 
sessed of a vast fund of information, which they com- 
municated to him freely ; first to his astonishment, and 
afterwards to his delight. They knew who had the best 
apples, peaches, plums, cherries and melons in the 
town and neighbol’hood — what gardens contained the 
most strawberries, raspberries, grapes, figs and pome- 
granates — who had the earliest and latest fruits — w^hat 
time bad dogs were turned loose at night — where hens, 
guinea- chickens, ducks and turkeys, were in the habit 
of laying. They were masters of all culinary matters, 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


27 


except the higher branches of cookery. They were 
abolitionists of the most generous stamp ; disdaining 
the distinctions of color, and holding out the most lib- 
eml encouragements to slave industry, by promising 
the most liberal prices for such little dainties and curi- 
osities as the poor slave might have to dispose of. Kor 
were these young gentlemen without personal accom- 
plishments, corresponding with their vast mental en- 
dowments. They were the most expert climbers of 
trees and fences in the country. They were good riders 
and better runners. Though one of them was two 
months, another fifteen and another thirty-seven 
months older than 'William, they could slip through 
gaps that he feared to attempt. They could heel a 
game-cock, whet a jack-knife, and shoot a pistol with 
unrivaled skill — their age considered. They could 
recognize people in the dark with the eye of an owl ; 
and run half-bent in gutters and ditches, faster than 
William could, on a plain. They could perform many 
amusing and ingenious tricks with cards ,* and smoke 
segars, chew tobacco and drink cordial, apple-toddy, 
egg-nog and the like, with marvelous grace and 
impunity. 

At the end of three or four weeks from the time that 
William left school, Mr. Markham’s examination came 
off, and most of the town attended it. The visitors 
were, as usual, liberal in their praises of such as did 
well; and these, William, who was present, heard with 
painful emotions. They were praises which made his 
tea-party-compliments seem insignificant. Here was 
competition, and not one was praised, of whom he did 
not know himself to be decidedly the superior. The 
examination closed with an allotment of prizes to the 


28 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


best in the several classes, by judges appointed for that 
purpose. William saw one and another distributed 
with increasing dej ection and self-reproach. At length 
George Markham was called out on the stage, and 
Judge Dawson advancing to him with a large silver 
medal, suspended by a crimson ribbon with tasteful 
decorations, observed : ‘‘Master George, in the course 
of the examination yon have labored under some dis- 
advantages ; for the judges, from an apprehension that 
their high respect for your teacher, might be uncon- 
sciously transferred to his son, have been more vigi- 
lant of inaccuracies in you than in any of your school- 
mates. So well have you acquitted yourself, however, 
that you have entirely relieved us from all apprehen- 
sion of doing yon injustice on either hand, and we 
presume there will not be a dissenting voice in this 
large and respectable assembly, to our judgment, which 
awards to you the first honor in your class ; in token 
of which we present you this beautiful medal. “ Re- 
member, continued Judge Dawson, as he placed the 
loop of the ribbon over the head of Master George, 
and dr opt the medal on his breast — “remember as often 
as yon look upon that medal, that on the day you 
received it, you raised the highest expectations of your 
future distinction, and resolved never to disappoint 
them.’^ As the Judge concluded, the house thundered 
with applause. William dropt his head and wept 
bitterly ; for he felt that all this would have been his 
had he remained at school. 

In the afternoon the usual exhibition came off. We 
may not dwell upon the performances of each of the 
students respectively. For reasons which will be here- 
after observed, we notice but two. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


29 


The fourth speaker called out was Master John 
Brown ! John stept out so completely metamorphosed, 
that William himself hardly knew him. His hair was 
combed down straight and slick. The lard-gourd had 
obviously been laid under contributions for it. His 
feet were disguised under shoes and stockings. His 
suit was all new and of course all of one color. His 
mother had tried herself upon it from the spinning of 
the first thread, to the fitting of it on. But nature 
had decreed that John should be a funny looking feb 
low in spite of dress ; and as he stept to the centre of 
the stage, as if laboring under a slight founder, (for 
shoes manifestly pestered him) an involuntary smile 
diffused itself over every countenance. He made his 
bow, and in a clear, distinct audible voice he began : 

Ladies and Gentlemen : You will not be surprised 
that I should have selected, as my theme for your 
entertainment this afternoon the incalculable advan- ' 
tages of personal beauty.^ ^ 

Here it seemed that the house would be knocked 
to pieces. Men, women and children laughed and 
thumped immoderately ; and even Mr. Markham could 
not preserve his usual gravity. Mrs. Brown jDlainly 
showed that her trouble in rigging out John was repaid 
by the very first sentence. With almost every other, 
the same scene was renewed j until at length all 
respect for order seemed to be forgotten; and such 
commendations as these might be heard in undertones 
all over the house : Well done, fiat-head ! Hurra short- 
neck ! Bravo pug-nose ! I tell you stiff-leg is some ! 
Give me homespun at last. John concluded, and had 
it been allowable, he, doubtless, would have been 
encored at least three times. He owed most of his 


30 


MASTER WILLIAM M:ITTEN. 


credit to the patient and careful drilling of his teacher, 
but there were few in the school who could have 
improved good drilling as well as John did. 

Next to John’s speech, the most amusing thing in the 
exhibition was a dialogue between George Markham 
and David Thompson, which elicited great applause. 
At the conclusion of the exercises, honors were a sec- 
ond time distributed, and young Markham was again 
complimented with a x)rize. Brown got one, of course, 
which was rendered doubly complimentary, by another 
peal of applause as he received it. 

All this was slow murder to William Mitten. Nor 
did his tortures end here. Seeing his uncle and Mr. 
Markham in conversation as the company retired, he 
flattered himself that they were negotiating for his 
return to school, and he drew near to them unobserved 
by either, and overheard this conversation : 

‘‘That little fellow Brown is an odd looking fish, 
Mr. Markham, but there’s some gimption in him after 
all.’’ 

“He’s rough material to polish, but he has some 
talent ; and if he can be made to study, he may be a 
man of worth yet.” 

“ I congratulate you on the very handsome manner 
in which your son acquitted himself in everything.” 

“He may thank Mrs. Mitten for his honors of 
to-day, for had she suftered her son to remain at 
school, George would not have touched a single honor. 
When William studied (and he had begun to study 
well) he was vastly superior to George in everything. 
The dialogue was written on purpose to show off his 
wonderful dramatic talent. George’ s part was designed 
for him, and your son’s for George j and I’ll venture 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


31 


to say, that I can take William and read over the part 
to him but once, and he will perform it decidedly 
better than George did. He spoke before me but three 
or four times while he was with me. The first time, I 
read over his piece to him after he had repeated it, 
and made him deliver it again j and I was amazed to 
see how exactly he followed my reading in every 
respect. Take him altogether, I think he is decidedly 
the smartest boy I ever had in my school.’^ Here the 
conversation was interrupted by the congratulations of / 
several other gentlemen. 

William went home in tortures, and hardly slept a 
wink that night. He would have given the world for 
the honors and praises which George Markham had 
received that day ; and he would have been willing to 
have changed persons with John Brown, for the 
trophies which John had won. 

The next morning he recounted to his mother all 
the events of the day, and particularly the conversa- 
tion which he had heard between his uncle and Mr. 
Markham. She was now stung nearly, or quite as 
deeply as her son. But what could she do ? Her vow 
was out and it must be kept. 

‘•Well, my child,’’ said she despondingly, “all this 
only goes to show that you are born to ill-luck. But 
I hope it is all for the best. Those who are unlucky 
in youth are apt to be lucky in old age, it is said — and 
I hope it will be so with you.” 

“Ma, when you get your private teacher will he 
have any exhibitions?” 

“ No, my son, he will have no scholar but you.’’ 

“ Then I don’t want to go to a private teacher.” 

<• But remember, my child, that as he will have but 


32 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


you one to attend to, lie can teach you a great deal 
better, and bring you on a great deal faster than Mr. 
Markham could, who has so many in charge. And 
study well, and you will soon enter college, where you 
will have an opportunity of showing off your talents 
not simply to a village, but to a whole State !” 

And how long will it be before I can go to college f ’ 
With your gifts, and a private teacher, I have no 
doubt you will be prepared to enter college in four 
years at the outside.^’ 

Why, ma, I’ll be dead before four years !” 

Oh, I hope not ; they will roll round before you 
are aware of it.” 

As the private teacher had not yet been found, Wil- 
liam had nothing to do for the j)resent, and he resumed 
his attention to public and devotional exercises, in fel- 
lowship with the young Glibs, and others of their stamp. 

. A few days after this Parson Turner was announced 
as wishing to have a few minutes private conversation 
with Mrs. Mitten. He was ushered into the parlor ; 
and Mrs. Mitten soon followed him. 

^^Mrs. Mitten,” said the Parson, I have called on 
you to beg of you to keep your ,son at home on Wed- 
nesday nights. He and the Glibs come to the church 
where we hold our prayer meetings, and sometimes at 
the door, and sometimes in the gallery, keep up such 
a laughing, bleating and groaning, that it is next to 
impossible for us to proceed with our devotions.” 

“Why, Parson Turner, you must be mistaken ! I 
have always taught my child to treat religious services 
with the most profound respect ; and for reasons that 
need not be mentioned, I am confident that he is 
hardly acquainted with the Glibs. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


33 


madam, there is no mistake about it. We 
all know him very well.’’ 

‘‘ Well, Parson Turner, I will enquire into the mat- 
ter, and, if I find it so, I will see to it that my son 
disturbs you no more.’’ 

“Whether you find it so or not, I assure you madam 
it is so. ” So saying he took his leave. He had not 
been gone long when William came in. 

“William,” said his mother, do you associate with 
the Glibsf’ 

They sometimes come to where I am, and then I 
can’t get rid of them ; but I don’t go where they are.’’ 

“Well, now, I strictly forbid you from associating 
with those boys. They are very bjy;l boys and unfit 
company for you. Parson Turner says you go with 
them to the church, and behave very rudely during 
prayer meeting. Is that so, William?’’ 

“T wasn’t me, ma, it was the/Glib-boys.’’ 

“How came you there with the Glib-boys, at all?” 

“ I said I was going to the prayer meeting and they 
followed me.” 

“Well, my son, I’m very glad to learn that yow 
didn’t misbehave at the meeting. Brought up as 
piously as you have been, I didn’t think it possible 
that you could treat religious services with contempt. 
When you go to such meetings, (which I am glad to 
find you disposed to do) take your seat near the leader 
of them, and bad boys will not follow you there. 
Hever have anything to do with boys tliat can trifle 
with sacred things. It’s the worst sign in the world.’’ 

Mr. Turner went from Mrs. Mitten’s to Mrs. Glib’s, 
and repeated his story. 


34 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Mrs. Glib’received liini with a careless chuckle, aud 
said to him : 

Oh, Mr. Turner, I wouldn’t mind little thoughtless 
boys ; they will have their fun ; but they’ll quit these 
things when they grow older. I’m very cautious 
against reproving my children for little childish freaks 
in church, lest I should excite in them a dangerous 
and lasting prejudice against religion. 

Mr. Turner, after sitting petrified for about a half 
minute, rose and abruptly left the house. 

About noon on the following Thursday, Mrs. Glib 
came over to Mrs. Mitten’s, in a great flurry. ‘^Oh,’^ 
exclaimed she, as she entered the house, ‘‘do you 
know, Mrs. Mitten, there’s a warrant out against all 
our children ! I gSt wind of it and hid my children 5: 
but I’m toid they’ve got William” — 

“A warrant!’’ shrieked Mrs. Mitten. “In mercy’s 
name tell me what has my child been doing to have a 
warrant out against him?’’ 

“ Oh, nothing of any consequence — don’t be alarmed 
—nothing but disturbing a prayer- meeting. Squire 
Crumb says there’s no law for it 5 and if there was, 
throwing stones at a house and setting off squibs at 
the door would not be against the law ; and if he was 
employed, he’d blow it all up. But Judge Dawson 
says there is a law against disturbing worshiping 
assemblies. I was afraid of this, when Tui ner went 
about comiDlaining of the boys for theYr little sports. 
You know such things always make them mad and 
worse than ever.’’ 

Mrs. Mitten was nearly distracted ; for he]‘ head 
was filled with jails, and punishment, and eterjial 
disgrace, which she supposed the invariable accom- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


35 


paiiimeiits of warrants. Her brother David was sent 
for, post-haste ; and he was soon at Mr. Justice Easy^s 
office, where William was under arrest. A short 
interview between him and Parson Turner settled the 
matter amicably. The latter told him all that had 
transpired and said he saw no other way of stopping 
these hopeful youths ; but that if Mr. Thompson would 
pledge himself that they would disturb the meetings 
no more, he would stop the prosecution. The pledge 
was given, and the matter was vsettled. This done, 
Mr. Thompson proceeded with William to his sistePs, 
where he found the two mothers. 

Where are your children, madam f ’ said Thomp- 
son sternly to Mrs. Glib. 

“Why, they— I expect they are — that is, I think: 
likely — which one of them f ^ , 

“Why, all of them, madam.’’ 

“Oh, I have not seen one of them since quite early* 
this morning. What did you want with them, Oaj)taiii 
Thompson?” 

“jT wished to know from their own lips whether, if 
I get them out of this scrape, they’ll let people pray 
in peace hereafter.” 

“Oh, yes, yes, yes — I’ll engage for them; and I will 
consider myself under everlasting obligations to you 
Captain, if you’ll get them out.’’ 

“ I must have the pledge from their own lips.’^ 

“Well, I’ll run home and see if they are not there. 
I’ve no doubt they are, for they always come home 
about this hour — what o’clock is it ?” 

“Half after twelve.” 

“ Oh, if it’s as late as that, I’m sure I shall find 


36 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


them at home. Stay a minute^ Captain, and I’ll rim 
over and bring them.” 

She soon returned with her three boys, who were 
placed with William before the Captain. 

^‘Do you know, young gentlemen,’’ said he with 
great solemnity, that you have violated the laws of 
your country? That a warrant has been issued against 
you, to vindicate the offended majesty of the people’s 
laws?” (Here the ladies looked much alarmed.) 
‘^That, unless somebody will befriend you, your moth- 
ers are liable to be mulct in pounds of money ; and 
that you are liable to be cast in prison /or ten long days 
and nights, with nothing to eat but bread and water, 
and nothing to sleep on but the hard floor and a few 
blankets? Then be dragged to a court of justice, 
before the ,eyes of the whole world, and there to be 
tried, by a jury of twelve men duly empanelled to 
pass between you and your injured, insulted country? 
Then, when convicted, (as you are certain to be,) that 
^ou are to be turned over to Judge Dawson, (who 
always respects religion, and whose wife is a most 
excellent member of the church,) to be dealt with 
according to the law in such case made and j)rovided ? 
And do you furthermore know, that all four of you 
-jare posting to the devil as fast as he would have you 
go ? Do you know all this my hopeful young friends ?’ ’ 
Yes, sir,” answered the bo3^s. 

^Wery well. Yow, I am disposed to befriend you 
all ’, but I desire to know what I am to expect from 
you if I do ; for I don’t wish to get myself into any 
more trouble on your account. If I can be certain 
that you will never get into any more such scrapes. 
I’ll hush up all this matter, as I know I canj but I 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


37 


must have a promise from all of you that, if I do, I 
shall have no more such matters to hush up. As for 
Bill there, I’ 11 manage Mm myself ; and if he goes to 
disturbing religious meetings again, after the trouble 
he has given me, and after I have snatched him from 
the clutches of the law, Til give him the timber my- 
self, harder than Markham did, mother or no mother, 
objection or no objection.’’ 

In such case, brother David, I think you would be 
perfectly justifiable, after you have stood his security 
and”— 

“Certainly, certainly,” said Mrs. Glib j “and in 
such case, I would not think of opening my mouth, if 
he should whip my children too.” 

“Well, will your children make the promise, or will 
they prefer going to jailf’ 

“Why, Captain, I would not own them if they 
refused. They are too high minded and honorable to 
refuse so great a favor upon such easy terms.” 

“ Yery well. George WasMngton Alexander Augustus 
Glib : Do you promise me here, in the presence of your 
mother and Mrs. Mitten, that if I stop this prosecu- 
tion, so that it shall not harm you or your mother, or 
your brothers, that you will never disturb another 
religious meeting while you live, either by mouth, foot 
or hand, inside or outside of the house ; and that you 
will show no rudeness, in any form or way, to Parson 
Turner, at any time or in any place ? Do you ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Thomas Jefferson Napoleon Bonapart Glib: Do you 
make the same promise that your brother has just 
made !” 

“Yes, sir.” 


38 


MASTER W1LLIA3I MITTEN. 


Benjamin Franklin JPulaski LaFayette Glib: Do you 
make the same promise.” 

^^Yes, sir.” 

Well, remain here five minutes, and if in that time 
I do not return, yon may be certain tliat the matter is 
satisfactorily settled.” So saying he retired. 

^^Oh, Mrs. Mitten,” said Mrs. Glib, “what an ex- 
cellent, excellent niiin, that brother of yours is. I 
shall love him as long as I live.” 

“Brother David has a good heart, though he is 
sometimes rough in his manner. ^V^as ever a child so 
unfortunate as mine*? It is an old maxim, that one 
had better be born lucky than rich, and I believe it. 
Brother David will probably settle the suit ; but who 
is to wipe out the stain from my child’s character f* 

“ Dear me, Mrs. Mitten, the thing will be forgotten 
in a week ! Everybody knows that it was but a child- 
ish frolic, that nobody but old Turner would have 
noticed ; and I shall make it my business to give him 
my mind upon it very freely, the first time I meet him. 
Em under no promise, if my children are.” 

“ I cannot blame Parson Turner, Mrs. Glib, and I 
hope you will not.” 

The five, and even ten minutes rolled away, and, 
Mr. Thompson not returning, Mrs. Glib moved off 
with her sons, looking very little like their namesakes. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


39 


CHAPTER III. 

Mrs. Mitten now determined to keep her son at 
home of nights; she therefore charged him, ^^npon 
pain of her sore displeasure,” not to leave the house 
at night without her permission. William promised 
obedience, of course ; and like a good boy, kept his 
promise for two nights and a half, without ever asking 
leave of absence. On the second night she seated 
him at the stand to read to her and his sisters. He 
had proceeded about a quarter of an hour, when three 
strange whistles were heard near the house. They 
were not noticed ‘by Mrs. Mitten as yet ; but the first 
had no sooner sounded, than William began to read 
horribly. 

Now, William,” said his mother, you’ve got tired 
of reading already ; and you’re trying how bad you 
can read, that I may make you stop !.” 

^^No, I declare I a’nt, ma.” 

Well, what makes you blunder and halt and mis- 
call words so? What does that incessant whistling 
mean f ’ 

‘^That’s the way the boys whistle at school,” said 
William. 

How do they do it ! for it sounds like blowing in 
large phials.’’ 

They do it by blowing in their hands.’’ 

What are they blowing about here for ! they never 
did it before. Go out William, and beg them to 
desist.” 

William obeyed promptly, and it seemed gladly. 
The whistling ceased as soon as he went out ; and in a 
few minutes he returned. 


40 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


“ Who are they f ^ enquired Mrs Mitten. 

A parcel of school-boys,^’ said William, but they 
said they wouldn’t whistle about the house any more.’’^ 
He resumed his seat, and read pretty well until his 
mother excused him. 

The next evening the whistling was renewed ; but at 
such a distance from the house, as to attract the atten- 
tion of no one j unless, perchance William from the 
events of the preceding night, was led to notice it. 

‘^Ma,” said he mayn’t I go to the Juvenile Debat- 
ing Society to-night f’ 

“ Certainly, my son j but come home as soon as the 
Society adjourns.” 

He set out, but happening to fall in with Ben and 
Jeff Glib, by the way, (so they were called for short) 
they proposed going by Squire King’s garden, and 
getting a few June apples. Ben said, “that Lawyer 
King was a very clever man, and didn’t care who took 
his apples, if they didn’t break his trees ; and only 
took what they wanted to eat.” Jeff said that he 
knew “that to be a fact ; for he heard him tell Wil- 
liam Strain, his wife’s little brother, that very day, ta 
go in with his playmates, and eat as many as they 
wanted, but not to break down his trees.” 

“Well, if that’s the case,” said William, “I’ll go ; 
but I wouldn’t steal apples for anything in the world.” 

“ Neither would I,” said Ben. “Law, no ! Not for 
the world.” 

^ ‘ Oh, it’ s nothing like stealing, ’ ’ said Jeff. ^ ‘ Sposen- 
you was to lay down anything, and say you didn’t 
care who took it, if they didn’t break it, and I was to 
come along at night, and take it, and not break it„ 
would that be stealing 


MASTER WILLIAM 3IITTEN, 41 

No.’’ said Ben, ^4t’s no more stealing tlian picking 
up a chip.’’ 

William had attended the Juvenile Debating Society 
too long and with too much profit, not to feel the full 
force of Master Glib’s logic, and consequently his- 
scruples were immediately removed and the boys pro- 
ceeded to the garden. The fence was easily ascended,.^ 
and they were soon under the best apple tree. 

‘^William,’’ said Ben in a whisper, “this is a good 
jdace to learn to climb.. The limbs are low and I can 
push you uj) to them. When you get in the tree,, 
shake down the apples, and brother Jeff and I will 
pick ’em up ; but don’t shake down more than we can 
eat ; for Mr. King wouldn’t like that, and I should 
hate to do anything he don’t like. Don’t shake hard. 
The best way is to get on a limb, and hit a little stomp 
with your heel, and if they don’t come stomp a little 
harder.” 

Thus instructed, William, with Ben’s help, ascended 
the tree. He stampt limb after limb until he thought 
enough had fallen to satisfy the company, and was^ 
about descending, when Jeff said, “ Don’t come down 
yit — wean’t got enough yit — I can eat a bosom full. 
Here, go out upon this limb and fetch it a pretty hard 
stomp or two, and that’ll do.’’ 

William went out on the limb as directed, and at 
the first stamp, missing the limb, he fell, and broke 
his arm just above the elbow. His pain was greaty 
and his alarm was greater, but he bore them with 
little complaint until he cleared the garden. He then 
broke forth in heart-piercing groans, sobs, and lamen- 
tations ; but not loud enough to disturb any of the 
villagei’S; “Oh, my arm does hurt me so bad! Only 


42 


MASTER william: MITTEN. 


see how it swings about ! Oh, my poor dear mother \ 
it will kill her. My Heavenly Father, forgive me this 
one time, and I never will do the like again ! I don’t 
want you two boys to go home with me. If you please 
don’t go home with me.” 

His cries announced his coming before he reached 
*home ; for they became louder as he approached his 
mother’s door. His sisters flew to him, and his mother 
rose to follow them ; but her strength failed her and 
she fell back in her chair. They could not learn the 
cause of his wailing until he entered the house ; when 
advancing to his mother, he sobbed out, ‘^Oh, my 
dear mother, look at my arm !’’ 

“.What, is it broke !” 

“Yes, ma’am, I can t move it.’’ 

“Oh, my God, was ever a child doomed to such, 
misfortunes ! Ann send for the Doctor immediately — • 
I have not strength to move. Send for Doctor Hull 
and Doctor Barden both.” 

The doctors came, and set the arm. 

Of course the enquiry was from all, how the acci- 
dent hax)pened. 

“I was going to the Society,’’ said William, “and 
was standing by a tree, and one boy said he’d learn 
me to climb, and he pushed me up the tree, and I fell 
down and broke my arm. 

We will not detain the reader with the many ques- 
tions which this explanation i^rovoked, and the 
answers to them which William gave. Suffice it to 
say that Doctor Hull fetched a little grunt of equivo- 
cal signification, and took a chew of tobacco upon it, 
with as little interest in it as if he had set a thousand 
arms broken in this way ; but Doctor Barden was as 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


43 


particular in liis enquiries into the case, as though he 
meant to report it to the Philadelphia Medical Journal. 

The next morning Squire King came over to enquire 
‘‘how poor little William was.’’ He expressed^ and 
no doubt felt, tender sympathies for the boy ; but any 
one to have marked his eye, would have supposed that 
his sympathies gathered about William’s feet rather 
than his arm. 

This might be accounted for without discredit to 
the Squire’s heart ; for being a great hunter, he had 
contracted a habit of examining tracks, and track- 
makers, which beset him at times, and sometimes 
upon improper occasions, as in this instance. 

“William,” said the Squire with a small dash of 
waggishness in his tone and countenance which Bill 
seemed to think very ill-timed; “was it a smooth- 
barked tree, or a rough-barked tree?” 

“ I forgot ; ” drawled out Bill a little crustily. 

“ Did you get up to the limbs before you fell, or just 
fall from the body 

“ I got to the limbs — ” 

“ Did you take off your shoes ?” 

“Ko.” 

“Aye, that’s the way the accident happened. You 
went up with your shoes on. You should always take 
off you shoes when you climb. The Glib-boys, who 
are the best climbers I know, always take off their 
shoes and stockings both. I hope, my son, you will 
soon be well. Mrs. Mitten, if there’s anything that I 
have that can minister to William’s comfort, it is at 
your service. I have some very fine June apples, and 
I will send him over some ; little boys commonly like 
such things.’’ 


44 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Thank you — thank you kindly, Mr. Iving. I know 
he will prize them very liighly — William, have you 
no thanks to give Mr. King, for his kindness Mr. 
King retired. 

“William,’’ said his mother, it seemed to me you 
were a little rude to Mr. King.” 

“ I know him,’’ said Bill sulkily. 

“Well, you know a most excellent, kind-hearted 
man.” 

“ He’s always poking his fun at people.’’ 

“I’m sure there was nothing like fun in what he 
said to you. It was all tenderness and kindness.” 

William’s arm kept him, for the most part confined 
to the house for five weeks or more ; during which 
time he was quite lucky ; for nothing happened to 
disturb his, or his mother’s peace. He had been so 
long kept from the Juvenile Debating Society that he 
had become very anxious to attend it ; and his mother’s 
consent being obtained, he departed once more for the 
arena of youthful polemics. 

He did not return until the family retired to rest 5 
and in passing to his room he made such a noise among 
the chairs, as to wake up his mother. ’ 

“ Is that you, William?” said she. 

“Yes.” 

“ Is that the way you answer your mother I” 

“ Who put all these chairs in the entry ?” 

“ There are no more there, than are always there.” 

“It’s a lie.” 

“Oh heavens, my child is deranged! My child! 
my child ! That arm, that arm !” 

Mrs Mitten sprung from her bed, and before she 
even lighted a candle dispatched a servant to Doctor 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


45 


Hull witli the request that he hurry over immediately j 
for that her son was out of his senses. She had hardly 
got a light and a loose-gown thrown over her shoulders, 
before the Doctor was at^he door. They met in the 
entry, just as William had come the fourth time to a 
cl: air which had been him ever since he entered 

the house. He seized it (for it had naturally enough 
exhausted his patience) and slung it with all his might 
as far as he could send it. 

‘‘Oh Doctor !” exclaimed Mrs. Mitten in the deepest 
agony of mind, “can yon do anything for my poor 
unfortunate boy I” 

“Oh, yes ma’am — yes ma’am. Don’t be alarmed. 
I ]3ledge myself to have him sound and well before 
nine o’clock to-morrow morning.’’ 

“ Oh, Doctor how can you speak so confidently with- 
out ever feeling the child’s pulse.” 

Just here, William having got hold of a small table 
that stood ill the entry, and which he probably mistook 
for a wash-basin, poured out upon it a villainous com- 
pound of heterogeneous elements, which it would have 
required a stronger head and greater capacity than 
Bill possessed, to keep together in peace for a single 
night. 

The Doctor grunted, as usual ; but with unusual 
indications of sympathy for Master Mitten. 

“ Why, Doctor, it seems to me,” said the good lady, 
“ that I smell peach brandy !” 

“It seems so to me too,” said the Doctor, “and 
segar smoke to boot. ” 

“ It’s a lie,” said Bill. “ He tells a lie, and you tell 
a lie.” 

“Do you think my child is drunk. Doctor?” 


46 


MASTER WJLLIA3I MITTEN. 


^^'No doubt of it ill the world, madam. I^othing 
else is the matter with him.” 

Then my fate is sealed. I am doomed to wretch- 
edness for life.” And she sobbed and shrieked by 
turns. 

‘‘Eetireto your room, madam. I will put him to 
bed, and stay with him until he gets sound asleep j 
and lie will be well in the morning.” 

‘‘She did so ; but it was to walk her room in tor- 
tures through the live-long night — not to sleep. 

It was late in the morning before William rose. He 
' had learned from a servant all that passed on the pre- 
ceding evening ; and it was an hour after he rose 
before he could venture from his room to face his 
mother. At length he came, and mingled tears of 
contrition with her tears of sorrow — confessed his fault 
and promised never to smoke another segar, or drink 
another drop of liquor, while he lived. 

About noon, on this day, an elderly, good looking 
gentleman made his appearance at Mrs. Mitten’s and 
introduced, himself as Mr. Judkins Twattle. He said 
he had seen Mrs. Mitten’s advertisement, and had come 
to offer his services as a private teacher. Mrs. Mitten 
desired him to call again at ten the next morning, • 
when her brother would be present, Avhose counsel she 
wished to have in the matter. 

At the appointed hour the parties met. 

“Have you any certificates of character and capa- 
bility Mr. Twattle f’ said Captain Thompson. 

“More, I presume, sir, than you will be willing to 
read.’’ 

Whereupon he produced a large bundle of certifi- 
cates, running by long jumps through twenty years, 


3IASTER WILLIAM IIITTEN. 


47 


and growing colder and colder with very few excep- 
tions, from the first to the last. They all agreed how- 
ever in representing Mr. Twattle as fully competent 
to teach all the ordinary branches of an English edu- 
cation, with Algebra, Geometry, Latin and Greek. 
The two first were very fiattering, and spoke in 
unmeasured terms of his skill as a teacher, his talents, 
attainments, gentlemanly demeanor, and spotless 
moral character. The two last merely testified that 

Doctor Twattle w^as a ^ood scholar and fully able to 
teach Latin, Greek, Mathematics, etc., etc. ; the one 
almost a literal copy of the other. The first and sec- 
ond were from Vermont — the third from Pennsylvania 
the fourth from Vermont — the fifth from Virginia— the 
sixth from IS'ew Hampshire — and the seventh from 
Kentucky — the eighth from Vermont — and the rest 
were from various places, under the designations of 
^‘Bethel Seminary,” Bethesda Institute,’^ “Pineville 
Lyceum, ”Buckhead Atheneum,” ‘^Goosepond Literary 
Parthenon,” ‘‘Big Lick Acropolis of Letters,’’ “Tick- 
Adlle Emporium of Literature and Science, * etc. 

Captain Thompson knew nothing of Mathematics, 
Greek, or Latin, but he could understand certificates 
as well as Newton, Demosthenes, or Cicero ; and he 
spared no pains in studying them upon this occasion. 
After he had looked them over until he wore out tlio 
patience of his sister and Dr. Twattle, lie observed : 

“You seem to have been a great traveller, Doctor.” 

“Yes, sir. I early conceived a desire to settle in 
the sunny South ; and as soon as I raised money enough 
to bear my expenses, I left my native State for Penn- 
sylvania ; but my health failing, I had to return. As 
soon as I recovered my health, I set out again for the 


48 .- 


MASTEE WILLIAM IIITTEN. 


South ; but my health again failing, I was again con- 
strained to seek a Northern clime. And thus I went 
on until, advancing in ye^rs, I found that I could not 
only endure a Southern climate, but that it was now 
more congenial to my constitution than a Northern 
one. Thenceforward, I have always resided in the 
South. Having no aim but to spread the lights of 
science through our favored country, and no disx)Osi- 
tion to accumulate money, but a strong propensity to 
travel and see the world, I have so ordered my life as 
to fill the measure of my wishes. I teach from i)lace 
to place, for longer or shorter periods, as I like or dis- 
like the people ; but never make an arrangement for 
more than two years at a time. Thus it is, sir, that 
you see so many certificates from different places.’^ 
“What gave you such a strong desire to visit the 
South r’ 

“At first, nothing by my inborn roving disposition ; 
but after residing awhile at the South, particularly in 
Virginia, I became so much enamored with Southern 
manners, customs, talent, spirit, generosity, hospitality 
and vivacity, that I determined to fix my abode here 
as soon as I could do so without rushing, with my eyes 
open, right into the jaws of death. 

“ Emph-hemph !” nosed out the Captain, ponder- 
ingly. “What are your terms. Doctor?’^ 

Six hundred dollars a year, if I have to board 
myself and visit my pupil twice a day, and sometimes 
at night, (for I expect to teach Astronomy) through 
all seasons, and all weather ; or two hundred, if I 
board in the family with my pupil. 

“ Why, that is a vast difference. Doctor.^’ 

“ So it is ; but I detest taverns so much, that I would 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


49 


rather sacrifice twice the price of hoard than board in 
one at any price.’’ 

^‘But you can find private boarding in the village, 
in genteel houses, for much less than four hundred 
dollars.” 

Well, if you prefer it, get me board in a genteel 
private family and add to the tuition as much as it 
may be less than four hundred dollars ; and send the 
pupil to my room, instead of requiring me to go to 
his.’’ 

Why not let the tuition stand at two hundred dol- 
lars, and we pay your board?” 

li^'o objections in the world, if you will allow me 
to board where I please, and allow me every accommo- 
dation that I could have at a tavern, and send the 
pupil to me. I understand that Mrs. Norton is a nice 
woman, and takes boarders. I will board with her 
and pledge myself that my board shall not cost you 
over three hundred dollars.” 

^‘Mrs. Norton’s is the dearest boarding house in 
town, and fully one mile from my sister’s.” 

Well, if too far for the scholar to walk, how much 
harder for me to ^7alk ! Nor can you expect me to let 
you choose my boarding house, and fix the price that 
I shall pay too ! Allow me to board at Mrs. Norton’s 
and I will knock off fifty dollars from the tuition.” 

‘^Or, I suppose, allow you to board at my sister’s 
and you will do the same.” 

The Doctor looked as if he had committed a terrible 
blunder ; and after a little halting and smiling, he 
replied : Well, sir, you’ve got me where the owl had 
the hen : so that I can neither back nor squall — of 
course I will.’’ 

D 


60 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Are you willing to contract for six months on trial 
at those rates f ’ 

“Perfectly willing— perfectly willing — provided you 
will engage not to turn me off capriciously at the end 
of six months j and allow me to fix the time of our 
connection by our next contract, if I deport myself to 
your satisfaction. Dining one day with Thomas 
Jefferson, and Nathaniel Macon, the latter made a 
remark which I have often proved the value of since : 
“In making a contract,’^ said he, “always have a 
little of it on your own side.” 

“ Are you acquainted with those gentlemen 

The Doctor looked provoked at himself, for having 
made the remark, and replied in a courteous but hur- 
ried manner : “No sir — that is not — no sir, no. The 
circumstances which brought us to the same table, 
were purely accidental. Neither of them, I am sure, 
has now the most distant recollection of me j though 
we did interchange some words upon that occasion.” 

“ Well, Doctor, my sister and I will confer upon the 
matter in hand, and if you will call at three o’clock, 
this afternoon, we will let you know our decision.’’ 

“I will call at the hour,” said the Doctor rising, 
“but to avoid any unkind feelings, it is proper that 
I should apprise you of my views of negotiations of 
this kind. When I make a proposition, which is not 
immediately accepted, I do not consider myself bound 
by it afterwards. If time be claimed to deliberate 
upon a proposition of mine, I claim the same time for 
retracting it if I see proper.” 

“ That is all perfectly fair. Doctor — perfectly fair.” 

The Doctor withdrew j and he had hardly cleared 
the door before Mrs. Mitten begged her brother to call 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


51 


him back, and close the bargain immediately. ^‘He 
sees,’^ said she, “ where you entrapt him, when speak- 
ing of Mrs. i^'orton, and his last remark was made on 
purpose to help him out of the difficulty.^’ 

“Anna,” said the Captain, “my advice to you is, 
to have nothing to do with this man. If he is not a 
pickled villain. I’ll give you my head for a foot-ball. 
A man of his age and accomplishment running about 
the country with a batch of old rusty, ragged certi- 
ficates in his pocket, gathered through twenty years, 
not one of which ten years old, says a word about his 
moral character — willing to teach for the pitiful sum 
of one hundred and fifty dollars, and confessedly with 
no money in his pocket ! Down from Vermont, and 
then back again — then South, then North, then here, 
there, and every where ! He’s a rascal — as sure as 
you’re born he’s a rascal.’’ 

“ Oh ! brother David, what uncharitable beings you 
men are ! Every objection you raised he answered, 
if by accident, before you raised or even thought of 
them. He has accounted most satisfactorily and 
nobly, for the cheap rate at which he holds his ser- 
vices—” 

“ — P-h-e-e-e-w ! He from Vermont and care nothing 
for money ! A literary apostle to the Southern Gen- 
tiles, moved by pure love of their wondrous virtues ! So 
devoted to them, that sickness can’t drive him away 
from them ! Stuff, smoke, nonsense ! He’ll breed mis- 
chief in your house as sure as you take him there.” 

“ Brother David, are you going to let slip this favor- 
able opportunity of getting a teacher for my child at 
this critical period of his life,” — 

“ No, I’m going to let you do as you please. If you 


3IASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


1)2 

want him, you shall have him ; and I’ll do the best I 
can with him, for you ; but once more I pray you to 
let this man alone ; save the expense of him and the 
danger of him, and send your son to Mr. Markham, 
and beg him to whip the devil out of him, that has 
been getting into him every since he was taken from 
school.’^ 

have said again and again, and I now say once 
for all, that my child shall not go to Mr. Markham. 

“ Very well, I’ll engage T wattle. Take him for six 
months first, and you will be sure of his doing well- 
for that time at least ; but look out for squalls, after- 
wards.’’ 

This was agreed to, and Mr. Twattle was employed 
upon the terms and conditions already im^gmated. 
That is to say, for six months, at the rate of one hun- 
dred and fifty dollars per annum. Mrs. Mitten to 
board him, and he to fix the terms of his next engage, 
ment. 


OHAPTEE IV. 

Dr. Twattle deported himself to the entire satisfac- 
tion of Mrs. Mitten for six months. He liad not been 
in her house one month, before he completely capti- 
vated the whole family. So dignified and easy was he 
in his manners, so neat in his person, so courteous and 
respectful to the ladies, so rich in knowledge, so pleas- 
ant in anecdote, so attentive to his business, and so 
careless of sordid lucre — in short, so perfectly did he 
come up to the Mitten-standard of the gentleman and 
the scholar, that he w^as soon admitted to all the rights, 
privileges and immunities of a near connection, in the 
family. The girls called him Uncle Twatt William 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


6a 


called liim Father Twaddy. And Mrs. Mitten called 
him Good Man, and Good Doctor, and burdened him 
with delicacies for the palate. The Captain watched 
him closely ; but was constrained to say, greatly to 
the delight of his sister, that he didn’t know but that 
he had misjudged the man. “ Certainly,” added he, 

if he is an imposter, he is the most accomplished one 
that I ever met with ; and I have seen not a few.” 

“And now, brother,” said Mrs. Mitten, “I hope 
you’ll acknowledge that for once in your life, I was 
right and you were wrong.” 

“ Not yet, Anna. Any rogue may be clever for a 
few months. I will admit, however, that he does 
better than I expected, even thus far.” 

The Doctor’s first quarter’s salary was paid ; and 
he laid it nearly all out in presents for Mrs. Mitten, 
her daughters and son. 

“Good Doctor,” said she, “ if you could turn these 
things to any use, I would insist upon you keeping 
them ; for it looks like down right robbery to take 
them from your scanty means.” 

“I only regret that my scanty means in hand will 
not allow me to double them, Mrs. Mitten.” 

“How would you do in case of sickness or misfor- 
tune ?” 

“I have had for many years a little fund laid up to 
meet these contingencies — some ten or twelve thousand 
dollars, or such a matter. This, small as it is, will 
bear me through a long spell of sickness gently to the 
grave ; or keep me above want, should I linger on the 
shores of time after I become too old to be useful, or 
to labor in my vocation. When thrown upon that 
fund, I shall change my character— my liberality will 


54 


31 ASTER WILLI A3I 3IITTEN. 


end ; but until forced upon it, why desire to increase 
it. So little do I think of it, while I am able to make 
a living without it, that I hardly count it as a part of 
my estate. It might as well not be, for I shall prob- 
ably die before I need it, and I certainly never shall 
touch it until I do need it. For several years I have 
not even drawn the interest ui)on it.’’ 

Sux)pose you were to die suddenly, to whom would 
you leave it f’ 

To some of the many beloved pupils whom I have 
taught ; or to some one that I might be teaching when 
death arrests me.” 

^^Have you no near connections, Doclorf’ 

“None nearer than fourth cousins, madam; and 
these are so j^rofligate and abandoned, ];)articularly the 
one who bears my name, that I never wish to see them 
again.” 

“ Were you never married. Doctor 1” 

“ Yes, madam, for a short time ; but ’’ 

“Pardon me, Doctor, for touching that tender 
chord. I see that I have inadvertently revived long 
buried griefs.” 

“You are very excusable, madam — your question 
was a very natural one in its place. At another time 
I will give you the history of my married life, as long 
as my dear Anna lived. For the present, suffice it to 
say that the little pittance of wiiich I was just speaking 
came by her ; and upon her death, I set it apart as a 
consecrated fund, never to be touched, while I could 
live without it. You have here another and the prin- 
cipal reason why I never speak of that fund as my 
own. But I have yet another : If the world knew of 
it, I should be harrassed and have my feelings lacerated 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


55 


incessantly and insufferably, with idle questions about 
my manner of life, while I have the means to live 
without labor, as though it were not every man’s duty to 
labor in some useful calling, while he is able to do it.” 

“ I fully approve your conduct. Doctor j and I shall 
keep sacred the secret which my reprehensible curios- 
ity has dragged from you.” 

Thank you, madam ; but pray take no blame to 
yourself for your curiosity ; it rose as naturally from 
the current of your conversation as the bubble rises 
from the agitated fountain.” 

Mrs. Mitten possessed too kind a heart to receive 
presents from the Doctor without returning them with 
interest. 

At the end of the first month, Mrs. Mitten proposed 
to give a large tea-party, for the express purpose of 
introducing the Doctor to the villagers, male and 
female ; but he begged her not to do it. I cannot,” 
said he, ^^reciprocate hospitalities, and I should be 
pained to receive attentions which I cannot return. I 
am fond of company, but for the reason just given, 
with others, I rather avoid company than seek it.” 

‘^1 have noticed that, Doctor. You hardly ever 
leave the house in the day time, while you often take 
recreation rambles at night.” 

Just so, madam j but there is a better reason than 
that : the day is yours (or your son’s) j the night is 
mine.” 

Considering that William never rose till breakfast 
time in the morning, and was out almost every night 
to a late hour, he made very rapid progress in his 
studies under Doctor Twattle. His mother had com- 
mitted him to the entire direction of his teacher, and 


56 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


as night was the recreation hour, he could not object 
to his pupiFs following his example. 

A little incident occurred in the first month of the 
Doctor’s tutorshij) which must not be passed over in 
silence, as it produced important results in the end. 

One morning Mrs. Glib called on Mrs. Mitten, and, 
after the usual salutations and interrogatories, said : 

“I am' told, Mrs. Mitten, that you are delighted 
wdth your new teacher.’’ 

‘‘ I am, indeed,” said Mrs. Mitten. 

Well, I’ve come over to see if he can’t take my 
boys, too. They and William have become so much 
attached to one another, that it seems a pity to sepa- 
rate them. Ihjawe discovered” (lowering her voice to 
a confidential pitch) ‘‘that Mr. Toper drinks. That 
good brother of yours spoke but too truly when he 
charged Mr. Toper with drinking. Now, I will pay 
three-fourths of Dr. Twattle’s salary if he will take 
my boys in with William ; and that will bring Wil- 
liam’s tuition down to almost nothing.” 

“But, will you board the Doctor three-fourths of the 
time F’ 

“ Certainly I will.” 

“ But he will not be willing to teach four boys for 
the price he gets for one.” 

“ Well, I’ll let his wages stand at what they are, and 
I will double them for my three boys, and board him 
half the time.” 

“ But how will we do % I can’t consent for William 
to go to your house to be taught.” 

“Well, the teaching may all be done at your house.” 

“ But I know that Doctor Twattle would not be wil- 
ling to come from your house to mine to teach.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 57 

Well, then, he may stay altogether at yours, and I 
will pay part of his board. 

^^Oh, Mrs. Glib, I couldn’t think of taking pay for 
board from you.” 

Well, what plan would you suggest. It’s cruel to 
part the boys, for they can hardly live out of each 
other’s sight.” 

really do not see how it will be possible to 
arrange it — I don’t think it can possibly be done.” 

‘^Suppose you invite him down, Mrs. Mitten, and 
let us talk over the whole matter, and see if we can’t 
fix it so that the boys may be together.” 

To this proposition Mrs. Mitten readily assented, for 
she was very confident that Doctor Twattle would not, 
upon any terms, consent to take the young Glibs. 
Accordingly, he was invited down, and introduced to 
Mrs. Glib. 

have called. Doctor,” said Mrs. Glib, ^‘to see if 
you would not be willing to take my three boys 
under your instruction with Master William. Mrs. 
Mitten and I are like sisters, and our children like 
brothers, and if you would consent to take my chil- 
dren, you would greatly accommodate us all round.” 

‘‘Certainly, madam,” said the Doctor, “if Mrs. 
Mitten desires it, I will take them with pleasure ; but 
being under contract with her, I can, of course, do 
nothing without her consent.” 

“ But how could it be arranged. Doctor 

“Just as you and Mrs. Glib may choose.” 

“Would you be willing to board part of the time 
with Mrs. Glibr’ 

“I would rather not change my boarding house j 
but if Mrs. Mitten desires it, I will even do that.” 


58 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Oh, no, Doctor ; I do not desire to put you to that 
inconvenience. Besides I should feel that I was viola- 
ting my contract if I did not board you all the time 
Well, then, Doctor, how would this suit : You 
board here all the time, and I pay Mrs. Mitten half 
your board 

“Yery well indeed, madam. I should prefer that 
to moving from house to house.^^ 

^^But I couldn’t take money from Mrs. Glib, Doctor, 
for board. And suppose we were to make that 
arrangement, how would it be as to tuition? I sup- 
pose you would ask four times as much for teaching 
four as you do for teaching one.^’ 

That would be equitable j but I will not stickle 
about prices, if I can accommodate the friend of one 
who has been such a kind friend to me as Mrs. Mitten 
has been.’^ 

^^But where would you teach. Doctor? At my 
house or Mrs. Glib’s?’^ 

Just as you may say, Mrs. Mitten.” 

“ So you see, Cousin Mit, ” (so Mrs. G. in her playful 
moods called Mrs. Mitten) ‘^that the whole matter is 
in your hands, and you are to say whether my poor 
boys are to get an education or not.” 

Just here, when Mrs. Mitten was getting into an 
inextricable entanglement, a bright thought struck her, 
which relieved her from all difficulty, and in the 
transports of which she compromised her piety a little. 

^^Well,” said she, “we can arrange this matter 
satisfactorily, provided brother David will give his 
consent that Doctor Twattle shall take other children 
under his charge besides William. But you know. 
Doctor, that he has had the whole management of this 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


59 


business in liis own hands, and I would not dare to 
move an inch in it without his consent. I will submit 
the matter to him, and if he consents, I will most 
cheerfully consent that you take Mrs. Glib’s sons under 
your instruction.” 

^^Oh, well,” said Mrs. Glib, have no fear but 
that he will give his consent. You know Mrs. Mitten 
he stepped forward, unasked, to assist my children, 
upon no other condition than that they gave him a 
promise: and that promise they have all kept most 
honorably and religiously.’^' 

Very well ; whatever brother David says I will do 
Mrs. Glib j that I will promise you.” 

^^And whatever Mrs. Mitten says,” said the Doctor, 
'' I will do.” 

shall see brother David to-day, Mrs. Glib, and 
let you know to-morrow what he says.” 

Here the company separated, all j)erfectly satisfied. 

^^Well, certainly,” soliloquized Mrs. Mitten, when 
Mrs. Glib left the house, ‘Hhat is the most trying 
woman that ever was born. She keeps me everlast- 
ingly in hot water. Cousin Mit .'” 

It was not until the next morning that brother David 
appeared at his sister’s. He had no sooner arrived 
than Mrs. Mitten made known the desires of Mrs. Glib. 
Oh, yes,” said he, take the angels by all means !’* 

^^But I wish you to be serious, brother. Mrs. Glib 
has my pledge that the matter shall be submitted to 
you, and I have promised her to abide by your decis- 
ion.” 

^^You have! Well, tell Mrs. Glib that I am 
perfectly delighted at the idea of having my nephew 
in constant association with her lovely boys, and 


60 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


nobody else ! That rather than lose so fine an oppor- 
tunity of advancing the interest of my nephew, I will 
send the young gentlemen to school every day in my 
carriage — Good morning, sister. 

Stop brother — if you have any regard for me, 
don’t leave me with such a message to Mrs. Glib’^— 
Lord bless my soul and body, yonder she is coming 
now ! Brother David ! Brother, if you have one 
particle of love or respect for your poor widowed sister 
come back.’’ 

Well, what do you vantf’ 

^‘Do you seriously desire me to bear that message 
to Mrs. Glib % I know you do not. Then speak with 
your usual frankness.’’ 

Well, you are certainly the strangest woman that 
ever was born. You are forever asking my advice, 
and never taking it. I had almost resolved to give 
you no more advice ; but as you seem afflicted by this. 
I’ll reverse it; which I do seriously. Tell Mrs. Glib 
that I object to T wattle’s taking any more children 
while he is under contract to teach William alone — I 
will not have his attentions divided. And tell her, 
moreover, that I had just as lief see a polecat, a rattle- 
snake and a hyena come into the house as her three 
children.” 

“I^^ow, you’ve gone too far again! Do, my dear 
brother, revoke the last part — see, she’s most here” — 
^Wery well, I revoke it. Good morning 1” 

He had not left the house two minutes before Mrs. 
Glib entered it. 

‘‘Well,” said she, “ I saw your brother retire as I 
came up, and I suppose you know his will concerning 
the boysf’ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


61 


yes, Mrs Glib; and lie won’t hear to the 
Doctor’s taking any more children wliile he is under 
contract to William. He wishes William to have all 
his attentions.’’ 

^^He doesT said Mrs. Glib, biting her lip and 
patting her foot. 

^ ^ Yes, ma’ am He seemed very positive. ’ ’ 

suppose that gives you very great pain — Good 
morning, Mrs. Mitten !” 

Why, you’re not going so soon !” 

^^Yes, madam; I just run over to know Capt. 
Thompson’s edicts.’^ 

^^l^ow, we’ve to have new trouble?” mused Mrs. 
Mitten as Mrs. Glib left the house. And she hit it 
exactly. In less than three months after this date, a 
very strange report was whispered about in secret 
places of the village. And what, gentle reader, do 
you think it was? ‘AVhy that Twattle was courting 
the widoAV Mitten.” No, that was not it ; but that the 
widow Mitten was courting^ Twattle ! It was a slander, 
of course. The widow Mitten was not the woman to 
court anybody — i. e., matrimonially. 

About a month before the first term of Doctor 
Twattle’s service expired, he spent several evenings 
with Mrs. Glib, who, the reader has long since dis- 
covered, (though I believe I forgot to tell him so) w^as 
a widow, too. Her given name w^as Bridget ; but not 
liking it as she grew up, she added an to it, so as 
to make it more romantic. She was rich, and for her 
years remarkably handsome. 

In these visits Mrs. Glib ofiered the Doctor many 
inducements to close his conti aet with Mrs. Mitten at 
the end of his engagement, and make a more advan- 


62 


31A8TER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


tageoiis one with her. How the Doctor received her 
overtures is not known 5 but it is certain that Mrs- 
Glib cherished the idea that after another short 
engagement with Mrs. Mitten, he would be at her 
service ; an idea that was strengthened by the fact 
that when he came to renew his engagement he limited 
it to only four months. 

It was not without alarms that Mrs. Mitten observed 
the growing intimacy of Mrs. Glib and Dr. Twattle ; 
and when he limited the time of his second engagement 
to four months, instead of a year or more, as she had 
expected, her alarms were increased. Ho change, 
however, was observed in the doctor’s conduct 5 and 
nothing of higher interest occurred for the first two 
months, than, that Mi'S. Mitten in taking one of 
Master William’s coats to mend, found a pack of cards 
in one of the pockets, which discovery she reported to 
his teacher, who promised to cure him of all love of 
cards by parental reproof and kind counsels. 

The third month of the second term had just passed, 
when a report spread all over the village that Doctor 
Twattle and Mrs. Mitten were certainly engaged to be 
married. It no sooner reached her -brother’s ears than 
he hastened to her, to put her uiion her guard, lest in 
her well known admiration of the Doctor, she might 
say or do something tending to encourage the report. 
To his surprise, he found her unmoved by her brother’s 
disclosure. “If people choose to talk about me,” 
said she, “ let them talk. It would be no discredit to 
me to marry such a man as Doctor Twattle, I’m sure, 
for he has every (luality that any woman could desii e 
in a husband, and not a fault that I have been enabled 
to discover.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 63 

Where is lie?” said the Captain, pack him 
off, if it costs me my life.’’ 

And if we were going to be married, do yon think 
that would stop it? I assure you it would not.” 

Very well, you take your course ! I see plainly 
the report is true. I have one piece of advice to give 
yon, and it is the last that I ever expect to give you. 
Have your property secured to yourself and your 
children. If yon don’t, every shilling of it will go ta 
him as soon as you are married ; and do not beggar 
yourself and them to enrich a stranger.” 

“Best assured, if we get married, that will be done f 
and if it were not, the good Doctor would not touch 
one dollar of it without my consent. Of this I have 
the most satisfactory proof. But I have heard him 
say, that if he should ever marry again, while ho 
would have no woman who would not trust her prop- 
erty, with her person to his care, yet that when both 
were committed to his charge, he would always con- 
sider the wife as his, but the property as hers ; and 
for fear of accidents, he would immediately afterwards 
settle her property on her. Not before, because there 
would be no merit in doing it then, and great demerit 
in his bethrothed to request it.” 

^^Why, Anna, he’s a scoundrel as sure as you are 
born, and I feel strongly tempted to cut his throat. 
If you’re bent upon marrying him, as I see you are, 
let me bring a lawyer here and have your property 
secured to you immediately.” 

‘‘What is the use of doing that, when it is certain 
that he’ll make no such contract?” 

“And, therefore, you’re going to marry him without 
one ?” 


64 


MASTER WILLIA M MITTEN. 


Yes, but rm not going to lose my property for all 
that, brother. 1 know Doctor T wattle much better 
than you know him ; and if I were at liberty to give 
you his history, you would not even ask me to require 
a marriage- contract of him — I know you would not.” 

Just here the young ladies, who had overheard the 
conversation, made their appearance in tears. 

would,” said Miss Jane, rather Ma should 
marry Uncle T wattle than anybody else, if she will 
marry, but I never can see my poor dear father’s 
place ” 

^‘Hold your tongue !” said Mrs. Mitten sharply. 

Ma, you can’t blame us,” said Miss Ann, ^^for not 
wishing to see our dear departed father’s ” 

^^Hush, I tell you ! and speak when you’re spokeu 
to.” 

Oh, sister,” said the Captain, do let the children 
have their opinions. I should think they might express 
their opinions of even Mr. Saint Twattle, without 
having their heads snapped off.” 

Mrs. Mitten was in no humor for this retort just at 
this time, and she showed more independence and 
temper than she had evinced for many long years. 

^^Well,” said she, my own mistress, and I’ll 

marry who I please, if all the brothers and children in 
the world should oppose it.” So saying, she hurried 
from the room. 

Well, young ladies, I hope you’ve got a teacher to 
your liking now ! ” said the Captain. 

The girls each seized a hand of the Captain, and 
begged his forgiveness for opposing his advice to their 
mother, and promised more for the future than the 
Captain could have required. He withdrew his right 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


65 


hand from Anna’s embrace, and turned his eyes away 
from them, as if looking for something that he didn’t 
wish to find, and with his middle finger pressed some- 
thing froDi both that he manifestly wished to conceal. 

“Oh, my dearest, dearest uncle,” said Jane, “onr 
father, our only, our best counsellor j will you not do 
something to stop this match ? ” 

“I don’t know what I can do,” said the Captain, 
striving to dissipate or hide his feelings by rough 
words, “unless it is to cut the scoundrel’s throat, to 
which I feel strongly tempted.” 

“ISTo, uncle, no ] use no violence ” 

Here William came in, whistling “ Yankee Boodle. 
“You young scoundrel ! ” said the Captain, “ you’ ve 
brought things to a pretty iDass ! Would God you had 
died at your birth.” 

“ Why ; what have I done, uncle 1 ” 

“You’ve filled your mother’s heart with anguish 
ever since you quit Markham’s school ; and you’ve 
brought into the house a man who is going to beggar 
her and all her children.” 

“I didn’t bring him, uncle. You know I was wil- 
ling to go back to Mr. Markham.” 

“Well, to do you justice— but what have you been 

at ever since ! ” Distobing prayer-meeting, you 

little rascal, and running into all manner of iniquities ! 
You’ll come to the gallows a« sure as your name’s 
Bill Mitten, you young dog! Do you know your 
mother’s going to marry Twattle ?” 

“ Yes, sir ; he told me about it long ago ; but said 

he would’ nt do it if I objected ” 

“ If you objected 1 If you objected. And I suppose 
your Eoyal MajevSty gave your consent?” 

E 


66 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


“ I told said Bill, with humility, for he had 

never seen his uncle in such a terrific state of mind 
before, ‘Hhat if he loved ma, and ma loved him as 

much as he said they did 

Clear out of the house, you young rascal, or 

r 11 ’ ^ (Bill scampered. ) ^ ^ Don’ t you see the deep, 

designing knave and hypocrite in everything he does ! 

Using a child — his pupil I’ll smoke the viper out 

of his hole !” So saying, he rushed up to T wattle’s 
room amidst the screams of the girls. 

He knocked at the door, but received no response. 

‘‘You may as well open the door, Mr. Hell-cat, for 
I’ll come in if I have to break it down.” 

After a short pause, and no voice from within, he 
forced open the door, and, behold, the Doctor was not 
in ! He went in search of him, but luckily did not 
find him till his fury abated. He went home and took 
-his bed, for the excitement had brought on a smart 
fever. 


CHAPTEE Y. 

At the close of the last chapter, the reader will 
remember that we left Mrs. Mitten resolved to marry 
Twattle against the wishes of brother and daughters j 
Oapt. Thompson sick in bed from over excitement j his 
two nieces in tears ; Billy comfortable, and his teacher 
missing. How did Twattle happen to be out of his 
room in the day time? Doubtless, Mrs. Mitten had 
advised him to take an airing, while her brother was 
swelling. Current as was the report of the intended 
marriage, and strengthened as it was by what had 
passed between Capt. Thompson and his sister, Mrs. 
Glib did not believe it. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 67 

^^Mark what I tell you,” she would say, with a great 
deal of self-complacency, ‘U't tvill never take place.^^ 

Her visits to Mrs. Mitten had not entirely ceased 
from the last which we have noticed, but they had 
become much less frequent, and much less cordial than 
before. And when she heard of what had passed 
between Thompson and his sister at their last meeting, 
she appeared rather pleased than pained by it. 

Captain Thompson had kept his bed two days, when 
the Post-master of the village visited him with a letter 
in his hand, and mystery in his face. 

I have come over,” said the Post-master, to make 
enquiries of you concerning Mr. Twattle. Here is a 
letter from a Mr. Charter Sandprs, written at AthenSy 
mailed at Lexington, and requesting an immediate 
answer directed to Washington, enquiring whether 
there is not a man here by the name of Twattle ; and 
whether he goes by the name of John, Jacob, Joseph, 
James, Jeremiah, or any other given name beginning 
with a ^ J and requesting a particular description of 
him. The writer begs me to say nothing about this 
1 )tter ; but as I hardly know Twattle, I have come to 
you for the information required, as well as to let* you 
know that there is probably something wrong in this 
Twattle, whom report says your sister is about to 
marry.” 

^^The dirty scoundrel !” exclaimed the Captain, “it 
now occurs to me that every certificate which he pro- 
duced, I believe without a solitary exception, save two 
which Doctored him, was in behalf of ^J^ Twattle j 
and the rogue’s going through the country under every 
name that ^ J’ is the initial of. Sit down here and 


68 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


answer it immediately ; and don’t whisper a word 
about that letter to any one else.” 

It was done accordingly ; but unfortunately, the 
gentleman had not noticed a servant girl who was in 
attendance on the Captain ; during the conversation, 
and before the answer was finished, the servant 
informed Miss Jane that Charter Sanders, ^‘who lived 
in Washington, had written about Mr. Twattle, and 
said his name was John, Jim, and a heap more names, 
and that he was a dirty scoundrel.” Miss Jane hast- 
ened home, and conveyed the information to her 
mother, and her mother to Twattle 

He received it with a smile, mingled with a little 
indignation, and observed : 

That worthless fourth cousin of mine, Mrs. Mitten I 
He keeps me making explanations wherever I go. I 
hope Sanders will find him, and bring him to justice. 
Kow, I must post off to Washington, to, see Mr. San- 
ders, or lie under the suspicions of the town until he 
comes here. Is your brother able to leave his bed yet?’’ 

“No, sir j but he is better, and I hope to see him out 
in two or three days.” 

This day, and the next, the Doctor was out more 
than usual ; and the day following he was missing. 

About this time, the impression became general that 
the Doctor had run away. Mrs. Mitten became very 
uneasy ; and Mrs. Glib came over to console her. 

“Did he make no explanations to you ?” said Mrs. 
Glib. 

“ None about leaving ; though I know what took him 
away.” 

“Why, he explained the whole matter to me.” 

“That is very strange!” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


69 


You may rest perfectly easy, Mrs. Mitten ; he will 
return next Thursday week.” 

Why, it should not take him that long to go to 
Washington and back.” 

“ Washington ! He’s not gone to Washington j he’s 
gone to South Carolina to receive a valuable rice plan- 
tation, which his lawyer writes he has recovered for 
him in that State.” 

‘^How did he go?” 

sold him a horse. I offered to loan him one; 
but he said he never borrowed a horse for more than 
a day. He could have no peace on a journey of a 
week, upon a borrowed horse, for fear of accidents 
and delays that might injure the animal or incommode 
the owner.” 

What did he give you for him ?” 

^^More than I asked, by fifty dollars; and when I 
objected to receiving more than my price, (which was 
up to the full value of the horse) he begged me to 
accept it, ^ as an earnest of further and larger favors 
that he meant to show me ;’ so he gave me his note for 
two hundred dollars.” 

^^His note ! Why, he had money, I know.” 

“Yes; he told me you had been kind enough to 
advance him thirty- two dollars and a half since the 
last contract with him ; but that, he said, would hardly 
bear his expenses to Charleston ; so I loaned him three 
hundred dollars to pay his lawyer’s fees.” 

“Mrs. Glib, he’s an iniiDOStor ; and we have both 
been made the duj)es of his villainy, as sure as you 
live.” 

“Now, how it would distress you if I were to tell 
the Doctor that, on his return, cousin Mit.” 


70 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


'^0, it wouldn’t in the least. He’ll never return, 
unless lie is brought by Mr. Sanders.” 

What Mr. Sanders?” 

‘ ^ Why, haven’ t you heard of the letter from Mr. 
Sanders, inquiring about him, and representing him 
as a scoundrel, and I know not what all ?” 

Why, no. Is there such a letter in town?” 

“ To be sure there is.” 

Well, if I had known of such a letter, Mrs. Mitten, 

I would have told you of it.” 

have had no opportunity of telling you of it.” 

“But I can hardly think him an imposter, after all, 
Mrs. Mitten. Have you any reason to think him so ?” 

“Yes, abundant reason. On the day he left, he 
borrowed two hundred and fifty dollars of me — all I 
had — telling me that he had just discovered where a 
distant relation of his was, who, under his name was 
imjiosing upon peoj)le everywhere, and constantly 
bringing him into discredit ; and that if he could bor- 
row five hundred dollars he would conduct Mr. San- 
ders to the rogue, and take all the expenses of prose- 
cuting him on his own shoulders. As I had a deep 
interest in the matter — that is, in seeing all rogues 
brought to justice — I advanced him two hundred and 
fifty dollars, to get legal advice, a horse, etc., that he 
might be prepared to set out with Mr. Sanders as 
soon as he arrived in quest of his rascally fourth 
cousin, of whose iniquities he had long before informed 
me. I concluded he had gore to Washington to meet 
Mr. Sanders.” 

“Well, he told me about that cousin, tooj and a 
long cock and bull story about the death of his dear 
wife Bridgeta. I told him I didn't think there was a 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 71 

woman in the world, besides myself, who bore that 
name ’’ 

Did he say her name was Bridgeta? Why, he told 
me her name was Anna.” 

Why, the hypocritical, lying scoundrel ! I’ll make 
brother John cut his ears off at sight, if he proves to 
be the villian I fear he is.” 

Brother John, nor brother David, will ever get 
sight of him.”. 

Well, if he has taken my best horse and choused 
me out of three hundred dollars. I’ll spend a thousand 
dollars but what I’ll bring him to justice.’’ 

Well, now, Mrs. Glib, we have both been imposed 
upon ; our best way will be to keep the whole matter 
to ourselves.” 

^^ISTo ; I am determined to expose him, and to seek 
legal redress. I can’t sit down quietly under the loss 
of a fine horse and three hundred dollars, without mak- 
ing some effort to save them. Let people say what 
they may. I’ll try and get hold of this rice ifiantation 
at least.’’ 

‘‘ Believe me, that story about the rice plantation is 
all a fabrication. Did he tell you about the fund that 
he got by hiia dear Bridgeta ?” 

“Oh, yes. It amounted to what he called the insig- 
nificant sum of ten or twelve thousand dollars, and was 
held sacred, and all that rigmarole ; which, he said, 
nobody in the world knew about, but me, and which 
he didn’t wish to have known.’’ ' 

“ Precisely what he told me !” 

“The infamous rascal ! If I was near him I’d claw 
his eyes out. I’ll pursue him to the end of the earth 


72 


PIASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


but wbat ril have satisfaction So saying, she left 
in a great hurry and a great flurry. 

In a few days Mr. Sanders arrived. His report was 
that Twattle had two wives then living, whose prop- 
erty he had squandered ; that he had courted many 
widows and old maids, all of whom he had fleeced to a 
greater or less extent, and some of whom he had treated 
even worse j that his title of Doctor was assumed by 
himself for purposes of villainy j that he passed under 
every given name that would suit; with much 
more that need not be repeated. 

Captain Thompson recovered rapidly after Mr. San- 
ders’ letter reached the village. As soon as the latter 
had told his story, the Captain visited his sister, whom , 
he saluted very pleasantly. 

^AYell, sister, have you heard Doctor T wattle’s his- 
tory 

As much of it as I wish to hear of.’’ 

^AVhen does the wedding come offf’ 

When men cease to be scoundrels.” 

^^But surely you don’t think ‘ Good Doctor Twattle^ 
a scoundrel ; you, who know him so much better than 
anybody else knows him 

‘ AVell, brother David, if you men will be such infa- 
mous, hypocritical, lying villains, how are we women 
to find it out 1” 

A very proper question, Mrs. Mitten ! We can 
excuse Captain Thompson for a little raillery, under 
the circumstances ; but we cannot excuse the indiffer- 
ence of mankind generally to the iniquities of men, 
and their want of charity for the errors and weak- 
nesses of women. Many a man in high life is in 
the daily commission of crimes which would blast 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


73 


a woman^s reputation forever ! By wliat law is this 
distinction made between the sexes ? 

How conies it to pass, that men are not only indulged 
in their own dereliction from virtue, but in laying siege 
to the virtue of the better sex ? And why is man allowed 
to avail himself of the most lovely traits of woman’s 
character — ^her warm affections, her unsuspecting con- 
fidence, her generous hospitality, her admiration of 
what is noble in human nature and attractive in human 
conduct — ^to ruin or to swindle her % If there be no 
better world than this, where more even-handed jus- 
tice is meted out, God help the women ! But to return 
from this digression — 

Mrs. Mitten’s question stumped the Captain, and he 
turned the subject : 

And what are you going to do with William now f ^ 
said he. 

Heaven only knows, brother David. I regret my 
vow not to send him to Mr. Markham ; but it is out, 
and I must keep it.” 

The Captain tried to convince her that her vow was 
not binding, but without effect. Fortunately, a young 
man of liberal education and good character opened a 
school in the village, within three days after Twattle 
left, and William was sent to school to him. 

William had just got into his new quarters, when 
the Captain, visited his sister, bearing with him a 
letter from the post-office, to her address. 

^^Anna,” said he, as he entered the house, ^Glid 
you lend Twattle two hundred and fifty dollars before 
he went awayf ’ 

^Wes,” said she, blushing blue, ^‘but I’ve got his 
note.” 


74 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


well, if you’ve got his note, that will make you 
just as safe as if you had got his tooth-pick. I do 
hope*!’ 11 come across the scoundrel yet, before I die. 
You would do well to set down and calculate how 
much your tenderness for Bill’s legs have cost you in 
actual cash, to say nothing of trouble. Who is your 
letter from?” 

She opened and read as follows : 

Augusta, March 4th, 18 — 

Mrs. A. Mitten: 

“Having recently understood that you have pro- 
cured a private teacher, we have ventured to stop your 
advertisement, though ordered to continue it until forhid, 
under the impression that you have probably forgotten 
to have it stopped. If, however, we have been misin- 
formed, we will promptly resume the publication of it. 
You will find our account below ; which, as we are 
much in want of funds, you will oblige us by settling 
as soon as convenient. Hoping your teacher is all that 
you could desire in one, 

“We remain, your ob’t serv’ts, 

“H &B .” 

“ Jfrs. A., Mitten to Augusta Herald, Dr. 

“18— 

Mar’. 4th. To 47 insertions of advertisement for 
l)rivate teacher from Mar’. 4, 18 — , to 
date, $1.00 for the first, and 75 cents 

each, for the remainder $35.50 

Bee’ d payments ^ 

“Why, brother,” said Mrs. Mitten, as she closed 
the letter, “I can’t surely be comiielled to pay this 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 75 

bill, wbich has been running on for nine months after 
I got my teacher.’^ 

Yes you can sister j unless the stoppage of it in 
the village paper, where it first appeared, required 
them, by the custom of printers, to stop it. I stopt it 
here as soon as you got T wattle 5 but I knew nothing 
of this advertisement ; and don’ t remember seeing 
any order, through this paper, to other papers to pub- 
lish it.” 

‘^No, I wrote to H. & B. to publish it in the Herald, 
and to Dr. 0 . to publish it in the Argus.” 

^^Well, you’ll have to pay both for publishing it 
until you order it stopi^ed. So put down seventy or 
eighty dollars more to account of love for Bill’s legs ; 
and then diang him up by the legs, and whip his back 
for a week, if you’ll allow nobody else to do it.” 

Brother, how have you taken such a prejudice 
against my poor, unfortunate child? If you’d talk to 
him kindly, and advise him, I have no doubt he would 
do well 5 for he loves and fears you, both.” 

^‘No, Anna 5 if you had let him follow my advice 
when he wished to do it, he would ever after have done 
it, and in the end he would have been an honor to the 
country ) but he won’t follow it now.” 

Well, brother, after all, I don’t see that he is so 
very bad.” 

Well, I know him to be very bad, from men who 
would not deceive me.” 

^^I’ve very little confidence in men.^^ 

“ So have 1 5 but there are some honest ones among 
them j and even dishonest ones may be trusted when 
they tqll of bad boys who infest the village. I will 
go and stop the advertisement in the Argus 5 and 


76 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


much as I sympathize with you, and regret your losses^ 
I am so rejoiced at the escape you have made from the 
clutches of that rascal, and the ruin that threatened 
you, that they seem to me almost nothing. It looks 
to me as if a kind Providence had interfered in your 
behalf.’’ 

I have no doubt of it, brother ; and I wish I could 
see you putting your trust in Providence more than you 
do. I will endeavor to live better than I have ever 
lived, do better than I have ever done, and be more 
humble, than I have ever been for the balance of my 
life.” 

^^Why, as to* that matter, Anna, I don’t see how you 
are to get any better than you are. I wish I was half 
as good in moral character as you are. * Even your 
^faults lean to virtue’s side’ — but like all women, you 
let your feelings get the better of your good judgment. 
Your difficulties all spring out of. your affections, 
which blind you to defects in the objects of them, and 
make you the easy dupe of men, women, and children, 

whom you love . Why do you weep ? Yow is the 

time you ought to rejoice . I’ve left my pocket 

handkerchief at home — Good morning. I’ll stop the 
advertisement and pay up both bills for you and talk 
to William. He may do well at the new school. 
Young Smith, his teacher, seems to be a fine young 
man, and good morning.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


77 


OHAPTEE VI. 

We left William Mitten just after his introduction 
to Mr. Cosby Smith, his fourth teacher. Smith, but 
recently from college, and coming in competition with 
Mr. Markham, of course did not receive much patron- 
age, though few men of his age better deserved 
patronage than he did. He commenced with sixteen 
scholars, a fourth of whom were entered by Mrs. Glib 
and Mrs. Mitten. William, without trouble, and with 
little study, went immediately to the head of this 
school ; and he went there only to breed trouble to his 
teacher, and mischief, vice and insubordination among 
his schoolmates. Of all the pests that can be thrown 
into a school, the smart boy, without a rival in it for 
talents, and without principle, is the greatest. His 
talents give a charm to his vices which is irresistible 
to most of his young comi^anions. School-boys make 
too little distinction between virtue and vice, anyhow. 
They never seem to think that their own character is 
involved in their association with the wicked j nor 
that they are under any obligation to discountenance 
sin, in any of its forms, i^rovided it does not invade 
their own rights. Hence, the vicious are admitted to 
all the rights, privileges, and immunities of the little 
republic, as fully and freely as the most virtuous. 
Look at the students of a school on the play-ground ; 
mark their intercourse with each other generally, and 
you will find it impossible to discover from their con- 
duct which of them stands highest, or which stands 
lowest, in point of moral character. But you will 
not find much difficulty in discovering who are the 
master-spirits among them in their studies. To these 
there is a marked deference and respect shovm, even 


78 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


in their sports. For the most part, their word is law, 
and whether it be on the side of good or evil, it is 
equally authoritative. What can be worse than such 
law givers, when their hearts are constantly set on 
mischief ? 

For some months before William had entered this 
school, his applications to his mother for money had 
become alarmingly frequent ; but he always quieted 
her alarms by representing to her that the funds desired 
were for some benevolent, or praiseworthy object. His 
representations brought from her many excellent 
lectures upon i^iscriminate charities and the danger 
to which his benevolent nature was exposed from 
imposters and worthless vagrants, who choose rather 
to beg than to work, to which he generally gave sub- 
stantially the same reply namely, ‘Hhat he was 
always very particular in seeing who he gave his 
money to.’’ In this he told the truth, at least, since 
he generally gave his money to one of the Glibs, whom 
he had become very particular in seeing too frequently 
at the card- table. lie had been at Smith’s school but 
a few months before the fountains of his charity sud- 
denly dried up j and what may seem very strange 
to some, dried up just as he began to acquire 
the means of more enlarged benevolence. His grow- 
ing fortune first exhibited itself in a profusion of pen- 
knives, which he carried about him, from the most 
costly and elegant down to the cheapest and most 
worthless kind. 

“William,” said his mother, “where do you get 
those elegant pen-knives f’ 

“This one was given to me by Mr. Jones ; and this 
one I found j and this one was given to me by one of 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 79 

TV 

the school-boys.’’ William did not show his mother 
his whole assortment, by three or four. 

I hope, my son, that these gifts are but just returns 
for the many acts of charity which you have recently 
done to the poor. One never loses anything in the end 
by this kind of charity ; but you should have excused 
yourself from accepting the last, on the ground that 
you had tw^o elegant knives already ; and that your 
young friend needed it more than you did.” 

“I did tell him so, but he said I must take it to 
remember him by.” 

Well, my son, put that away as a sacred keepsake, 
and never use it but in case of necessity.” 

The next signs which William exhibited of his grow- 
ing fortune, were books, fishing-poles, shinny-sticks, 
bunches of quills, breast-pins, and cakes of divers 
kinds. 

William,” said his mother, where did you get 
those articles'?” 

They were given to me by the boys for doing their 
sums for them, and taking them over their lessons — ” 

Oh, my son ! my son ! You surely did not take 
pay for these little kindnesses from your school fel- 
lows ! I am ashamed of you — deeply mortified. 
Where did you learn that groveling, sordid spirit*? I 
would rather have given you twenty dollars, to buy all 
these things than to have seen you guilty of such igno- 
ble acts.” 

^^Well, Ma, I didn’t wish to take ’emj but they 
would make me take them.” 

^^Ko matter what they said, you should not have' 
received them. As a gift you might have taken them j 


80 .MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


but as a reward for such little favors as these to your 
young friends, you should have rejected them.’^ 

These were new lights to William ; for he thought 
his mother would be delighted to hear of his superi- 
ority over his schoolmates, and that he was already 
turning his talents to good account. 

^^And where did you get the two breast-pins?^^ 
sold one of my pen knives, and bought this.^^ 
^^IN'ot the one, I hope, that your friend gave you.” 

Oh, no ma’am j the one I found !” 

^^Why, William, you surely have not sold a found 
knife ! It was not your property, but the property of 
him who lost itj and you should have kept it, to 
restore it to him as soon as he could be discovered ; 
and you should have used your best exertions to find 
the owner, in order that you might restore it to him. 

I am deeply mortified at this act of yours ) and if you 
have any regard for my feelings, or your character, 
never do the like again. It alarms me, and pains me 
deeply to discover such principles in you. Where did 
you learn them? I^'ot from any who carries the blood 
of your father or mother in his veins, I am sure. I 
fear your intimacy with the Glibs is ruining you. 
Nothing but dire necessity could have induced me to 
put you to the same school with them j but I charge 
you, as I have often charged you before, to have as 
little to do with them as possible.” 

Where did you get the other breast-pin?” 

William was saved a great deal of trouble and mor- 
tification in answering this question, by an exclamation 
of his sister Jane, who no sooner cast her eyes upon 
the breast-pin, than she exclaimed : “ Why, Ma, that 

is Flora Glib’s breast-pin. Let me look at it. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


81 


William. Yes, here are her initials on it : F. C. L. 
G. — Flora Claudia Lavinia Glib. I knew it as soon as 
I saw it ; for I have seen her wear it a hundred times. 

‘^William !^’ ejaculated his mother, with manifest 
alarm and indignation, where did you get that pin V 
Jeff Glib gave it to me !” 

^^Go immediately to him, and return itj and tell 
him to give it back to his sister.’^ 

The truth of the matter is that William had made 
such rapid improvement in card-playing, that he had 
become an over-match for the Glib’s, and he was now 
indoctrinating as many of his school-mates into the 
mysteries of the card table as he could find willing to 
become his pupils ; and for the reasons already given, 
he found nearly the whole school ready to take lessons 
from him. Most of his articles of merchandize, (and 
we have not named all of them) were the fruits of his 
industry in this department of science j though some 
of them were, as he said, rewards for his better 
services to his fellow students. It would have been 
bad enough, had his evil influence stopt here ; but it 
did not. He had already become mean enough to 
tempt his school-fellows to sin in a hundred forms ; 
and artful enough to put them always forward to the 
post of danger in the commission of it. The conse- 
quence was, that, while he got the booty, they got the 
floggings and disgrace. 

The iniquities of the school were most unrighteously 
visited upon the head of the preceptor, who at the 
end of the year, was compelled to quit the village, for 
want of patronage. 

And what,” said Captain Thompson, to his sister, 

F 


82 MASTER WILLIAM: MITTEN, 

^^are you going to do with your hopeful son now, 
Annaf’ 

Heaven only knows ! I fear he will bring my gray 
hairs with sorrow to the grave. Brother David, why 
do you not talk to him 

‘^Talk, the devil! I have talked to him, in all 
ways that I can think of ; and what good does it do ? 
He has got so of late that when I talk to him I can 
hardly keep my hands off of him. I can see in the 
looks and actions of the young rascal, that nothing 
but fear keeps him from laughing outright in my face.^^ 
Oh, brother, I think you judge him too harshly. 
I know he has got into bad habits j but still, I am 
sure he respects and loves you.” 

“And he respects and loves you, too, don’t he?” 

“He must be a brute if he does not.” 

“Well, I suppose he does love you; but I assure 
you he cares no more for your counsels than he does 
for mine ; and that hardly a day goes over his head 
that he does not practice some deception upon you.” 

“There, brother, I think you judge him a little too 
hardly again. He generally does what I tell him.” 

“Well, tell him to quit playing cards, pilfering 
from gardens and orchards, cursing and swearing, 
smoking cigars, drinking spirits, frequenting kitch — 

“ Oh, mercy on me, brother David ! what enemy of 
my child has filled your ears with these calumnies? 
He is bad enough, I know, but he is not a devil yet. 
I cannot believe he is near as base as you represent 
him to be.” 

“Very well. What are you going to do with 
him ?” 

“ I do not know. Will you take him under your 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 83 

charge? for ! confess I fear he is getting into bad 
habits.’^ 

“Yes, 111 take him, and clothe him and feed him at 
my own expense, if you will only give me your word 
that you will not interfere with my management of 
him. Will you do it? If you will. I’ll perhaps save 
your boy from ruin and you from a broken heart.” 

“Where would you send him to school? To Mr. 
Markham ?” 

“I should prefer him ; but as I know you object to 
him, I will engage that Bill shall not be sent to Mark- 
ham. Indeed, he must be got out of this place, or 
forty bushels of salt and as many pounds of saltpetre 
wouldn’t save him. I’ll send him to Mr. Waddel. He’ll 
fetch him straight.” 

“I’m told Mr. Waddel is very severe.” 

“Not a whit more than he ought to be. I’ll warrant 
you. I am told his pupils generally like him, and 
improve wonderfully under him. Now, Anna, if I 
take him, remember the terms. You are to have 
nothing to do with him. ‘ You surely ought to know 
that I can have no object in taking charge of him, but 
his good and your peace. If, therefore, my conduct 
seems unkind, or severe to him, don’t let your maternal 
partialities lead you to interfere in any manner with 
my authority over him. By this time, you are surely 
convinced of the utter futility of your mode of man- 
aging him, and that if some new course of discipline 
be not adopted towards him, he will bring himself and 
you to an untimely grave. You must not only make 
up your mind to give me unlimited control over him, 
during his pupilage, but you must pledge me your 
word, that you will show me every letter that he 


84 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


writes to you during his absence from you at school, 
or I will have nothing to do with him. Why do you 
weep, Anna?’’ 

Brother,” said Mrs. Mitten, ^4t is a hard thing 
for a mother to wean herself from her own child — to 
tear him from her bosom, and hand him over as prop- 
erty to another. I know, my dear brother, that your 
intentions are good — that you have the interests of my 
child deeply at heart, and that all your aims are for 
his good and mine ; but I fear that you have so often 
been provoked by William, and have become so preju- 
diced and embittered against him, that you cannot 
judge of his conduct impartially, you cannot make the 
due allowances for his faults, and that you will lean as 
much too far on the side of severity in your govern- 
ment as I have leaned on the side of lenity in mine. 
Why cannot you act a father’s part by him, without 
usurping exclusive authority over him?” 

had a long answer to what you have said, Anna; 
but your last remark suggests a very brief one, which 
I think is conclusive. Now all I ask is that you put 
me exactly in his father’s place. Had his father lived, 
he would have exercised absolute authority over 
William in all matters touching his education. He 
would have demanded — or rather you would have 
freely granted to him, the perusal of all your son’s 
letters to you. In all else you would have ruled the 
boy conjointly. Now, give me the absolute control of 
him in the matter of his education, let me see his 
letters to you/ and in all else you shall have unlimited 
control of him. I need not tell you why I exact these 
terms of you. They are indispensable to the proper 
management of your son.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


85 


This reply brought Mrs. Mitten to a dead silence j 
and while she was pondering upon it, very opportunely 
for its success, in steps Master William, with his beau- 
tiful face ‘^pretty considerably” disfigured with 
bruises and scratches. 

“ Why, William exclaimed his mother, almost at 
the fainting point, who upon the earth has treated 
you in that manner f* 

Jim Fox,’^ muttered William. 

What did you fight about f’ 

We were playing and he got mad, and insulted me, 
and I struck him.’’ 

This was strictly true, but not quite the whole truth. 
The playing WSLS with cards, and the insult was Bill 
Mitten, youWe the biggest cheat that ever played a card in 
this town.^^ 

Captain Thompson said nothing, peradventure, he 
* might at this critical period strengthen his sister’s 
convictions that he was unduly prejudiced and embit- 
tered against her son. With the promise to call the 
next day for her decision upon his proposition, he left 
rather abruptly. 

As soon as he retired, Mrs. Mitten addressed her 
son as follows : William, I’ll have to send you away 

from this village, or wicked associates will be the ruin 
of you. I find that it is vain to counsel you against 
keeping bad company, and the only alternative left me 
is to remove you from it. I have concluded, therefore, to 
send you to school to Mr. Waddel, an excellent ” 

^M’ll not go,” said Billy crustily. 

This was Bill’s first indication, wlum sober, of open 
^revolt against the authority of his mother, and she 
met it with becoming spirit. 


86 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


^^Well, sir/^ said she, see you are getting too 
stout for my government, and, therefore, I will turn 
you over to your uncle, and see whether he cannot 
make you go. Now, sir, my word is out, and you 
know I’ll keep it.” 

said William, in a subdued tone, ^‘I’ll go 
anywhere else but to Mr. Waddel’s school. Every- 
body says that he is the severest man that ever kept a 
school. He whips boys just for the fun of it, for he 
laughs all the time he’s doing it. You know Uncle 
David hates me, and he’ll put me there just to have 
me whipped.” 

^^No William, it is unreasonable to supx)ose that 
any man can take pleasure in i)unishing his pupils. 
Mr. Waddel’s school has a high reputation, which it 
could not have if he were the man you take him to 
be. Your uncle does not hate you ; but the town 
keeps him constantly excited with reports of your 
misdeeds, and, therefore, he sometimes seems cross to 
you,* but he has a kind heart, and desires nothing 
more than my happiness and your good. Oh ! that I 
had followed his advice sooner !” 

^^Well, Uncle may take me to Mr. WaddeFs, but 
he’ll not keep me there ; for I’ll run away and come 
home as soon as his back’s turned.” 

That matter, sir. I’ll leave to be settled betwe^ 
you and him.” 

Here William saddened and wept j and his mother 
did likewise. 

The next day the articles proposed were agreed to, 
without qualification, save as to expenses of clothing 
and tuition, which were to fall on the mother. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


87 


CHAPTEE VII. 

The articles of capitulation having been ratified, as 
mentioned in the last chapter, the Captain was anxious 
to set out immediately with William for Mr. WaddePs 
school; but Mrs. Mitten declared that it would be 
impossible to prepare a suitable outfit for her son, 
short of a fortnight. “Eemember,’’ said she with a 
filling eye, “ my poor child is going among strangers, 
where he will find none to make or mend for him. He 
is to be gone at least five months, even if you will 
permit him to come home in the vacation ; or if you 
will not, then for a year, or it may be — here Mrs. 
Mitten’s swelling heart stifled utterance. The Captain 
regarded her for a moment in silence, in thoughtful- 
ness, in petulance, in pity, and then said : Well, if 
there be a stranger thing on this green earth than a 
woman, I should like to know what it is — at least a 
woman with a smart, pretty, good-for-nothing son. I 
thought if there was anything in this world that I did 
know, it was my own sister ; but I find that I know 
nothing about her. A woman ! Let her be as good, 
as sensible, as amiable as she may be, and give her a 
child, and forthwith her head is turned topsy-turvey. 
She is as blind to her child’s faults as a bat, and she 
mistrusts everybody who is not as blind to them as she 
is. I have come to the conclusion that a woman may 
have a soul before she has a child, but never after- 
wards — that is, a sound one — a rational one. After 
that, all is impulse or instinct with her — at least, in 
all that touches her offspring. She may have a 
thousand proofe that her indulgence is ruining her 
child, and she will indulge him still. She will believe 


88 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


him before she will believe any one else j and when bis 
iniquities stand broadly out before her face, she will 
find an apology for them all. He is ^unfortunate,^ or 
‘he has been tempted to vice by bad company,' or ‘he is 
slandered,^ or ‘he is the victim of envy,' or ‘prejudice,- 
or ” 

‘^Why, dear me, brother David, I don’t see what 
I’ve said or done to call forth this harangue.” 

“ Why, you are talking and acting just as though I 
had taken your child from you by force, and meant to 
afflict him in all forms possible. ‘ If you will permit 
him to come home in vacation, and if noV Do you 
suppose that I ever dreamed of keeping him away 
from you during the holidays? Do you suppose that 
I take charge of him only to torment hiDi?” 

My dear brother, don’t be angry with me. I had 
not the most distant idea of offending you in what I 
said. I never questioned for a moment your kindly 
feelings towards me and my child ; but have some 
charity for a mother’s Ioyq,— folly, if you choose to call 
it so. I never was separated from William a fortnight 
in my life. He is not torn from me, but he is tahen 
from me— with my consent — necessarily, I grant, but 
it is a sore necessity. He is to be carried among 
strangers, to be treated, I know not how. If sick, to 
suffer for a mother’s care — at least for a time— per- 
chance to die for the want of it. Now, when all these 
things crowd upon a mother’s heart, is it wonderful 
that it should be depressed ?” 

“I am not angry with you, Anna, that is — I — 
believe I am not. I know I don’t wish to be j but I 
am amazed at your want of firmness, your want of 
resignation to necessities 5 your surrender of judgment 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 89 

to feeling ; your ijatieuce under present evils ^ and 
your distress at imaginary ones, I am alarmed at the 
intimations you already give, of the speedy blowing 
up of our arrangement — not from a breach of your 
pledge, but from your anxieties, your griefs, your 
fears, your yearning to be with your son, which will 
leave me no alternative but to restore him to you, or 
to see you waste away under their continual corrod- 
ings. I pray you nerve yourself up to the exigencies 
of the case. That William can stay no longer here, 
you know. That he is in the broad road to ruin here, 
I know, and you ought to know. That he is getting 
beyond your control you confess, and in a little time 
he will be beyond mine, i^'ow, think of these things, 
and let them reconcile you to any unpleasant issues of 
our new arrangement. Let this reflection quiet, or at 
least solace all future anxieties about your son. ^ U is 
impossible for things to be worse than they are.^ Be 
cheerful, at least till evils come, and bear them with 
fortitude when they do come.” 

Ml’S. Mitten promised to do her best, and the Cap- 
tain continued : 

Don’t consume time in gathering up an extensive 
wardrobe for your son. Let us get him out of this 
place as soon as possible ; for he is rotting here faster 
than a dead rat in August ” 

Oh, brother ! How can you speak of your sister’s 
child in that way !” 

^A\^ell, I would have used a more delicate compar- 
ison, /(»• your sake, if I had thought of it ; but as for 
Bill — howevei', get him ready as soon as you can. A 
few changes of apparel is all that he needs ; and let 
them be plain and stout. Waddel’s school is in the 




MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


woods, where nobody sees, and nobody cares how 
the boys are dressed. It is made up, I hear, princi- 
pally of hardy rustic youths, most of whom, probably, 
never had a broadcloth coat, a linen shirt, or a pair 
of store-stockings on in their lives. If, therefore, you 
send your son among them, dressed out in fine clothes, 
you will expose him to ridicule from his young com- 
panions, and to other petty annoyances, which will 
give him a distaste for the place even greater than he 
now has. Better for you, and for him, that his clothing 
be cheap, plain and durable.” Mrs. Mitten promised 
to get him ready as soon as she could, and the Captain 
left her. 

In the meantime, William behaved himself uncom- 
monly well. He was ^too much saddened by the 
Prospect before him to relish either amusements or 
books. He spent most of his time at home in deep 
despondency ; for as soon as it was noised abroad that 
William Mitten was going to Waddeks school, the 
reports of WaddeFs severities doubled in number, and 
quadrupled in exaggeration. Any one, to have heard 
them, as passed among the young ones of the village, 
might have supposed that he fried a pair of little 
boys for breakfast, and roasted a big one for dinner 
every day. 

William had heard these reports in all their varia- 
tions, and they filled him with horror. His mother 
offered him encouragements with the tongue, but 
discouragements with the eye, every day, the last, of 
course, neutralized the first. After twelve days of 
preparation, Mrs. Mitten informed her brother that 
William would be ready to take his departure the 
next day. The Captain visited his sister that night. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


91 


to make all preliminary arrangements for the ^com- 
mencement of the journey, early the next morning. 
He found the family alone, for the hour of William’s 
departure had been purposely kept secret, to avoid 
the intrusion of visitors on this solemn evening. They 
were all seated around the fire silent and dejected. 
On the candle-stand, by the mother^ s side, lay the 
family Bible open — next to her, in the order of their 
ages, sat the two daughters, and William rested his 
drooping head ui)on the pillar of the mantle-piece. 
The servants stood around, with their eyes fixed upon 
him, as if for the last time. They had all just risen 
from prayers, hurried a little from fear of interrup- 
tion. The tears which from every eye had accompa- 
nied the mother’s devotion, had just ceased to fiow. 
A death-like silence reigned throughout the group, 
broken only by sighs more or less heavy, as they rose 
from hearts more or less dej)ressed. As the Captain 
entered, all burst into tears afresh. 

What !’’ said he, with a feigned indifference to the 
scene, which he did not feel, ‘^all this mourning at 
sending a little shaver to school 

The Captain was not a religious man, but he ivas 
almost persuaded to he a Christian; and the sight of his 
sister at prayer always inspired him with an instinc- 
tive philosophy upon souls,” much more impressive, 
if not more rational, than the impulsive philosophy 
which he had recently delivered. He glanced his eye 
to the candle stand, and took his seat in the circle as 
mute as the mutest. A minute or more elapsed before 
another word was spoken j and the first, to the sur- 
prise of all, fell from William. 

^ ^ Uncle, said he, in a grief-stricken, faltering 


92 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


voice/^^‘Uucle— you can — save me — from going to Mr. 
Wadders school, if yon will. It isn’t too late yet— If 
you please., Uncle, don’t send me there — I’ll go any- 
where else in the world that yon choose to send me, 
and not complain. If yon will only not send me to 
that school, I never will disobey you or Ma again. I 
know I’ve done wrong” — Here the elder sister inter- 
posed, kneeling : Oh, my dear Uncle, you cannot, 

yon will not, resist that — no, your streaming eyes tell 
me you will not — here on my knees before you, I beg 
you, I implore you” — ‘‘And I, Uncle, said the 
younger, dropping by her sister’s side, “we both 
beseech you for our dear, our only brother. Why 
that school, in preference to all other schools in the 
world % ” 

“Girls be seated!” said the Captain; and they 
obeyed him. 

A long pause in the conversation emboldened even 
the servants to drop a word in William’s behalf. 

There was but one of the group who did not ; 
and she felt more than all of them together. Under 
circumstances so trivial, no poor heart ever ran 
through such a hurricane of turbulent emotions in a 
few short moments, as did hers. She had never seen 
her child so moved by fear before. She had never 
seen him an humble suppliant before ; and now, it was 
to her substitute, not to her ! She had never heard 
such accents of humility and contrition from his lips 
before. She had hardly ever before seen the manly 
cheek of her brother moistened with a tear, and never 
hoped to see it, by the eloquence of her boy. Long 
sinking hopes rose buoyantly from the seene before 
her; she “Avouldyet see her first anticipations from 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


93 


her gifted son fully realized her brother’s censures, 

would soon be turned into praises ; his roughness, to 
kindness.” Anxiety crowded in upon hope — anxiety 
for the issue of her son’s appeal. If successful, what 
then? where then?” Alarms pressed upon anxiety. 
^^If he is foiled in this appeal, will he ever make 
another — will he not be driven to desperation ?” 

All these conflicting emotions she bore with marvel- 
ous composure ; but when the first words of her broth- 
er’s response fell uj^on her ear — God bless you, my 
dear, dear orphan boy !’’ — her self-command entirely 
forsook her. She crossed her arms upon her Bible, 
dropped her head upon them, cried ^^Amen! and 
Amen !” and sobbed convulsively, loud and long. 

God bless you, my dear, dear orphan boy,” said 
the Captain, ^^you are now in the right way, my son, 
and while you walk therein your uncle will be a father 
to you — he will love you, he will serve you, he will do 
any and everything that he can, to make you happy. 
If he deny you anything, be sure it is for your own 
good. And now, if 5^011 or your mother will tell me 
what other teacher I can send you to, with any hope 
of having you well instructed, and your morals well 
guarded, I will not send you to Mr. Waddel.” 

Can’t you send me back to Mr. Markham?” 

Well, come, your mother shall answer that ques- 
tion for me.” 

^^In an evil hour, son, I vowed you should never go 
back to Mr. Markham,” said the mother. 

^ ^ Well, Anna, ’ ’ continued the Captain, ^ ^ in the pres- 
ent state of things, I think you are released from that 
vow; but supposing yourself entirely released from 


94 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


it, would you be willing to keep William longer in 
this town at any school 

‘‘Well, as he is penitent, and promises amendment, 
if I could feel myself free from my vow, I believe I 
would be willing to see him return to Mr. Markham. 
But it is not worth while to discuss this subject j I cannot 
feel myself released from my vow. It is known all over 
.the village, and nobody will believe you put him there 
with out my consent ; and everybody will think I pre- 
tended to turn William over to you, just to shuffle out of 
my vow. Be this as it may, my conscience is involved in 
the matter, and I am not going to expose it to any nice 
questions. If I err at all, let me err on the safe side. 
I, therefore, give no consent to his going to Mr. Mark- 
ham, and I would rather that you should not expose 
me to the suspicion of having given my consent to it.^^ 

“Well, William,’’ resumed the Captain, that door’s 
closed. Now, hear me, my son, “Don’t you remember 
how sorry you were that I did not have my way with you 
when you were taken from Mr. Markham ? Well, just 
so it will be by and by, if I do not have my way with 
you now. You must get away from the bad boys of 
this town. Haven’t they often tempted you to do what 
you had fully resolved not to do f’ 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now, I know you think you will never be led away 
by them again, if I let you stay here ; but you will be 
as you have been. You have been alarmed by false 
and foolish reports about Mr. Waddel’s severity and 
cruelty. If they were true, his school could not be as 
celebrated as it is. He could not have the number of 
scholars he has. I am told he has largely over a hun- 
dred scholars, some of them the sons of the first men 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


95 


in the State, and that thousands of people from far and 
near attend his exhibitions. If you’ll go there, and 
get a premium (as I know you can, if you will,) itwi’| 
be worth having. It will be heard of in two or three 
States. Come, son, try Uncle’s advice this one time. 
All things are ready now — the time appointed for us 
to go — if we let it slip, you’ll be here doing nothing 
and worse than nothing, for I know not how long. 
Cheer up, my boy ; you can surely stand a school of 
such renown, and if you will do your best, you will 
stand ahead of these big men’s sons. Kow, what say 
you, son ; will you go or not?” 

I’ll go. Uncle,” said William, with a promptness 
and a firmness that astonished all present. 

^‘That’s a fine fellow,” said the Captain. ^^I would 
not take a thousand dollars for my part in you, this 
day.’' 

William’s decision was conclusive upon the family j 
and the mother felt herself in duty bound not to dis- 
turb it by word, action or look. She therefore assumed 
to be pleased, though she was so confident of William’s 
entire and radical reform, from what had just passed 
before her, that she would have preferred Markham to 
Waddel, if conscience had been out of the way. 

' ^^Anna,” said the Captain, “Mary (his wife) and 
the children will come over with me in the morning to 
bid William good-bye, and Mary will spend the day 
with you. I shall be here with the chaise, after an 
early breakfast, and let all things be ready.” 

The Captain had anticipated some such scene as that 
which he had just passed through, and to lighten the 
burden of it, he would not allow his family to accom- 
pany him that night. 


96 


MASTER WILLIA3I 3I1TTEN. 


CHAPTEE YIIT. 

The eventful morning came, and at an early hour 
Captain Thompson's chaise was at his sistePs door. 
His family had anticipated his advent some eight or 
ten minutes. Tom came out to hold his horse, while 
he went in. 

^^No, I won’t light, Tom,” said he. ‘‘Go and bring 
out William’s trunk, and let us be off, for we have no 
time to lose.’^ 

The Cai^tain had no idea of witnessing the parting 
scene. He waited and shivered, for it was cold. 

“ Come on, William, my brave boy — come on ; we’ve 
a long road and a bad road to travel,” bawded out the 
Captain to the vacant entry. 

'No response came, but sobs and blowing of noses. 

“Tom! Tom!” cried the Captain. 

Tom was waiting his turn to bid “ Mas’ William ” 
good-bye, and mingling his tears with those of the two 
families, of course, he had forgotten the trunk. The 
wind began to rise a little, and the Caj^tain began to 
backslide rapidly from his conversion of the evening 
before. 

“John !” cried the Captain, ll^'o answer. 

“Sal !” “Lotty !” “Kance !” 

They were all around “Mas’ William j” nothing 
doubting but that the saturnal of the preceding even- 
ing would be extended to the catastrophe of the occur- 
rence which produced it. The wind rose a little 
higher, and the Captain’s impatience rose a great deal 
higher. At length, it gave w^ay entirely ; and, light- 
ing from the vehicle he bolted into the mourning hall, 
with a step, and a tongue, and a passion, exceedingly 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


97 


unbecoming the solemnities of the occasion, and 
exceedingly opposite to his recent experience. The 
first object that met his eye was Tom, repeating pre- 
cisely the part he played the night before, when the 
Captain was so much affected, i. e. with swimming 
eyes, and mellowed heart, contemplating William. 

You black rascal,” vociferated the Captain ; what 
do you stand sniveling here for? (John go to my 
horse !) Didn^t I order you to bring out the trunk?” 

‘‘Kigh, Mas’ David said Tom, retiring a little 
briskly j ^‘nigger got feeling well as white folks ! You 
feel, too, sometimes.” 

‘^You impertinent scoundrel ! if you aint off for 
that trunk pretty quick. I’ll make you feel worse than 
white folks.” 

There was a lurking comparison in this reply of 
Tom, between himself and “Mas’ David,” decidedly 
favorable to himself ; and a plain intimation in it that 
he regarded the Captain as a clear case of apostacy or 
inconsistency. But the Captain was in too great a 
hurry to analyze, argue, or resent. “I have been out 
there for a quarter of an hour,” continued he, freez- 
ing, and bawling, and squalling for every negro on 
the plantation, and not one could I find.” {Exeunt 
hlacJcs, as from patrol.) “I have now hardly time to 
reach old Smith’s before night j and to be caught in 
the night, on such roads will be awful. Anna, is 
William ready ?” 

“Just a moment, brother, till I tie this handkerchief 
over his ears ,* the weather’s bitter cold.” 

While the Captain was awaiting this process, ten 
distinct thumps from the stair-case fell upon his ear, 
and then a harsh, raking sound of terrible import, 
G 


98 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


when Tom announced: “Here’s the trunk, Mas^ 
David. The Captain turned, and beheld one of the 
biggest trunks of the day. He ran to it and hefted it, 
as the Yankees say, and grunted furiously. 

“Anna,^^ said he, “that trunk can’t go on the 
chaise — it’s impossible.” 

“ It is the very smallest I could get to hold the boy’s 
things, brother.” 

“ What have you got in it?” 

“Nothing, but William’s clothes, and a few little 
knick-knacks.” 

“Well, yc«ill have to divide them and put them in 
two small trunks — one to be lashed on behind, and the 
other to go in the foot ; and it’s a pretty time to begin 
that work !” 

The Captain was too snappish to be reasoned with ,* 
so, by contributions from the girls, the small trunks 
were soon furnished, and the unpacking and repacking 
commenced. 

We will not detain the reader with a detail of the 
wardrobe. Suffice it to say, that after stopping in 
transitu three shirts, three pair of stockings, two under- 
shirts, one full Winter suit, and two Summer suits, the 
Captain saw the two small trunks filled to their utmost 
capacity with hard pressing ; and yet there was a thin 
layer of clothing on the ceiling of the basement story 
of the large trunk ; we must explain. Mrs. Mitten, 
with Tom’s help had placed two blocks of wood in the 
bottom of the trunk, upon which she laid a nice, clean, 
thin white pine board, that was so neatly adjusted to 
the measure of the trunk, that it divided it into two 
apartments. The board was lifted, and disclosed one 
pound cake, one dozen sugar biscuits, one ditto 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


99 


doughnuts, two pounds raisins, two ditto almonds, 
(shelled) one ditto prunes, with chinking of sugar 
plums innumerable. 

William, son,’’ said his mother, reckon you’ll 
have to leave these ; I don’t know how you can carry 
them.” 

It seemed to be a hopeless case to all, and Bill sur- 
rendered with a long deep sigh, which touched the 
Captain’s heart a little ; and casting his eyes to Will- 
iam, who looked like a week’s washing of clothes piled 
together, he said, with a slight smirk: “There’s 
nothing in the chaise box but a snack, and a little 
bundle of underclothing for myself ; you can put as 
many of these things in that as it will hold ; but be 
quick about it !” 

This was refreshing. It was regarded as a full 
atonement for all the petulance, impatience, and crus- 
tiness that the Captain had exhibited. One of the 
girls bounced into the chaise ; and by the aid of the 
rest of the company, she was soon enabled to stow 
away in the box a goodly portion of all the varieties 
of knick-knacks just mentioned. In the meantime the 
trunks took their places, the final kisses were disposed 
of, and a minute more found the Captain and William 
on their way. Nothing of special interest occurred 
on the journey. The Captain gave William much 
encouragement and good advice, and fretted a little at 
having to travel a half hour in the night to make his 
first stage, but as no accident occurred, he was easily 
reconciled to it. Four o’clock the next day (Saturday) 
found them at the public house, or rather boarding 
house, of Mr. Nelson Newby, Abbeville District, 
South Carolina. It was a rude log house, with two 


100 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


rooms, about fifteen feet square each, and an entry 
nearly as large, between tbem. In the rear of it was 
another building of the same material, somewhat 
shorter and narrower than the first. This was the 
dining room. Six or seven small edifices of the same 
kind scattered around, with little order, served as 
students’ lodges. A rail fence (or rather the remains 
of one) three feet high, enclosed the whole. About 
twenty boys of various sizes, were busily engaged in 
cutting, splitting, and piling wood, at the doors of 
their respective tenements — the roughest looking set 
of students that ever repeated the notes of Homer and 
Yirgil since the world began. The prospect looked 
gloomy, even to the Captain, and terrific to William. 

Uncle,” whispered he, ^Hhesecan’t be big people’s 
sons !” 

^^Well — don’t know — they’re pretty rough looking 
fellows — but — they seem to be very industrious boys.” 
Poor comfort to William. The Captain and his land- 
lord, of course, soon became acquainted j and the first 
expressing a wish to see Mr. Waddel, the last kindly 
offered to escort him to the teacher’s residence. 

“ It is not far out of the way to go by the Academy j 
would you like to see it said Mr. Hewby. 

^Wery much,’’ replied the Captain. 

They set forward, and at the distance of about two 
hundred and fifty yards from Mr. iSTewby’s premises 
they entered a street, shaded by majestic oaks, and 
composed entirely of log huts, varying in size from six 
to sixteen feet square. The truth of history demands 
that we should say that there was but one of the small- 
est size just indicated, and that was the whimsical 
structure of a very whimsical fellow by the name of 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


lor 


Dredzel Pace. It was endangered from fire once, and 
four stout students took it up by the corners and re- 
moved it to a place of safety. 

The street was about forty yards wide, and its length 
was perhaps double its width ; and yet the houses on 
either side did not number more than ten or twelve ; 
of course, therefore, they stood generally in very open 
order. They were all built by the students themselves 
or by architects of their hiring. They served for 
study-houses in cold or rainy weather, though the stu- 
dents were allowed to study w^here they pleased within 
convenient reach of the monitors. The common price 
of a building, on front row^ water proof, and easily 
chinked, was five dollars. The chinking was generally 
removed in Summer for ventilation. In the suburbs, 
were several other buildings of the same kind, erected 
by literary recluses, we suppose, who could not endure 
the din of the city at play-time— at flay-time, we saj^, 
for there was no din in it in study hours. At the head 
of the street, eastward, stood the Academy, differing 
in nothing from the other buildings but in size and 
the number of its rooms. It had two ; the smaller 
devoted to a primary school of a few boys and girls, 
over which Moses Waddel Dobbins, a nephew of the 
Rector, presided. These soon left, and Mr. Dobbins 
became assistant-general to his uncle. The larger was 
the recitation room of Mr. Waddel himself, the i)rayer 
room, court room, (see infra) and general convocation 
room for all matters concerning the school. It was 
without seats, and just large enough to contain one 
hundred and fifty boys standing erect, close pressed, 
and leave a circle of six feet diameter at the door, for 


102 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


jigs and cotilions at the teacher’s regular soirees, every 
Monday morning. 

A delightful spring gushed from the foot of the hill 
on which the school-house stood, and, at the distance 
of but a few paces, poured its waters into a lovely 
brook which wound through a narrow plain covered 
with stately beeches. Venerable old chroniclers of 
revered names and happy days, where are ye ! It was 
under the canopy of these beautifnl ornaments of the 
forest, by the side of that whispering brook, that we 
felt the first gleam of i^leasure that we ever derived 
from any thing in Latin. And here are the words 
which awakened it : 

“ Tityre tu paiulx recubans sub tegmine fagi, 

Silvestrem tenui musam meditaris avena^ 

Our party having taken a hasty survey of these things 
bent their way to Castle Carberry. As they journeyed 
on, Mr. IS'ewby pointed out the ground over which Sam 
Shanklin and Mr. Waddel had a notable race. Sam 
had offended “ Old Moses , (so he were called, even in 
liis prime, which he had now hardly left, ) and as the 
latter approached him whij) in hand, Sam took to 
his heels, not dreaming that old Moses would follow 
him. But he was mistaken ; he did follow him, and 
gained upon him at every step, a little. Sam, finding 
his pursuer too fleet for him, sought safety in lofty leap- 
ing; so he made for a brush-heap. Just as he reached 
it, old Moses fetched him a wipe upon the legs that 
energized his activity to unmatchable achievement, 
and he cleared the brush-heap at a bound. Here the 
race ended. The Captain laughed heartily at the story ; 
butAVilliam saw no fun in it. 

I Castle Carberry stood on the highway leading from 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


103 


Augusta, Georgia, to Abbeville Court-house, South 
Carolina, and about equi distant from Mr. hTewby’s* 
and the Academy. By whom it was erected, we are 
not informed ; probably by Samuel Shields, an assistant 
of Mr. Waddel, who had occupied it for two years pre- 
vious to the time of which we are speaking, and who 
was just now gathering up his goods and chattels for 
his final departure from the place, and for a much 
more interesting engagement.* It’s name w^as doubt- 
less derived from Maria Eoche’s novel — The Children 
of the Ahhey^ which had a great run in that day ; but to 
tell wherein the two’ Castle Carberry’s were alike, 
would puzzle the greatest conundrum-solver that ever 
lived. Upon the retirement of Mr. Shields, Alexander 
B. Linton succeeded to his possessions, and James L. 
Petigru to his office (not as some have most errone- 
ously supposed, the Mr. Pentigall, of the ‘^Georgia 
Scenes,”) though it was in this very castle that the 
great question w^as discussed : Whether at public 

elections should the votes of faction predominate by 
internal suggestions or the bias of jurisprudence!” 
Mr. Petigru bad been in Columbia College, a year or 
more before the discussion came off. 

Some two or three students always boarded them- 
selves at Castle Carberry. It served as a nucleus 
around w hich other edifices of like kind and for like 
purposes gathered, all built of the common material. 
We think its tenants were, in Mitten’s day, Alex. B. 
Linton, Henry Eassenel, Samuel Weir, and William 
D. Martin. 

At Castle Carberry the pronienaders re-entered the 


*He soon after married a young lady of Vienna, 


104 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


big road which they had left at ]N^ewby^s, having now 
seen all of Willington proper ; Willington common 
embraced every house within three miles of the 
Academy. As they entered the road, a messenger 
called for Mr. l^ewby to return home on some special 
business. He gave the Captain directions to Mr. 
Waddehs, and returned. The directions were simply 
to keep the road to the next house. A walk of a 
quai ter of a mile, or a little over, brought the Captain 
and his charge to the residence of the renowned 
teacher. It was a comfortable, framed building, two 
stories high, neatly, but plainly paled in — ^very rare 
things in that vicinity. 

Some six or eight more boys, like the Newbyites, 
were differently employed about the premises. 

Do you know, my son,^^ said the Captain, address- 
ing one of them, ^‘ whether Mr. Waddel is at homef ’ 

^^Yes sir,” said the youth, springing to the door, 
and opening it, ‘^walk in, take seats, and I will call 
him.’’ 

He disappeared, and in a moment returned with Mr. 
Waddel. 

^‘Mr. Waddel, I presume,” said the Captain. 

Yes, sir.” 

Thompson, sir, is my name, and this is my nephew, 
William Mitten, whom I have brought to place under 
your instruction.” 

“It is rather chilly, here,” said the teacher, shaking 
their hands cordially, “walk into my study, where I 
have a good fire. Won’t you go in, David?” added 
he to the guide, who was about retiring. 

“ Ho, I thank you sir, said David.” 

“ That’s a sprightly youth,” said the Captain, as he 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 105 

moved towards the study, ‘^and he is a namesake of 
mine.” 

^^Yes,” said the teacher, ^‘he is a clever boy — the 
son of the celebrated Doctor Eamsay.” 

^^What! Doctor Ramsay, the patriot, statesman, 
and historian — who married the accomplished daughter 
of the renowned Henry Laurens, President of the first 
Congress of the United States, Minister to Holland, 
and father of the gallant John Laurens, the beloved of 
Washington 

This was a clear splurged for William’s benefit. 

The same,” said Mr. Waddel. 

Well, I feel myself honored in bearing the boy’s 
name.” 

Before this conversation ended, all were seated in 
the teacher’s study. It was crowded with books — 
partly the teacher’s private library — partly, books laid 
in for the students which he furnished at cost and 
charges on Philadelphia prices. 

‘^Have you studied Latin, William?” inquired Mr. 
Waddel. 

^^Yes, sir.” 

How far have you gone?” 

I was reading Yirgil, when I quit school.” 

^^Well, I have a large Yirgil class, which will be 
divided on Monday. I have found that some of them 
are keeping others back ; and I have ordered them 
to get as long a lesson as they can for Monday morning. 
Those who get the most and recite the best, will be put 
in one class and the rest in another. Kow, you can 
take either division of this class that you may be found 


♦ A splurge is a moral cavort. Both are embraced in the generic term, 
cutting shines. Qa. Vocab, 


106 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


qualified for, or you may enter the Selectcv class, which 
will commence Yirgil in two or three months. Meet 
me at the Academy on Monday morning, and we will 
see what will be best.^^ 

^^How many pupils have you, -Mr. Waddelf’ 
inquired the Captain. 

About one hundred and fifty. 

YTiere do they board 

‘‘Just where they please, among the neighbors 
around. They all take boarders, and reside at differ- 
ent distances from the academy, varying from a few 
hundred yards to three miles.’’ 

“ Have the students to cut and haul their own fire- 
wood, and make their own fires?” 

“ISTot always. At some of the boarding houses the 
landlords have these things done for them, and at all, 
they may hire servants to perform them, if they will, 
or, rather, if they can ; but, as at every house there is 
at least a truck ivagon and horse at the service of the 
students, and wood is convenient and abundant, and 
to be had without stint or charge, they generally 
supply themselves, and make their own fires.” 

During this conversation, which from the beginning 
to end, was of the most alarming interest to William, 
his eyes wide open, were fixed on Mr. Waddel, who 
was an object of still more alarming interest to him. 
He had never seen — we have never seen — a man of 
sterner features than Mr. Waddel bore. From the 
time that William entered the house to the time that 
he left it, “shadows, clouds, and darkness” were 
gathering and deepening upon his mind j relieved 
only by oim faint gleam of light from young Eamsay, 
whom he regarded as the concentrated extract of all 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


107 


that was august, and great, and gifted, and good in the 
United States, if not in the world 5 and an ample veri- 
fication per se of all that his Uncle had told him about 

big men’s sons.” 

William was entered in due form a student of Mr. 
Waddel’s school ; and the Captain having enquired of 
the post office at which the students received their let- 
ters, and pressed Mr. Waddel to give him early infor- 
mation of William’s conduct, standing and progress, 
he left with his charge for Mr. ISTewby’s. A long 
silence ensued. At length it was broken by William. 

Mr. Waddel is the grummest looking man I ever 
saw.’^ 

Pretty sour,” said the Captain. ^^But I don’t 
reckon he is as bad as he looks to be. The boys seem 
cheerful around him ; and David Eamsay seemed per- 
fectly easy in his presence.” 

The truth is, the Captain was sore pressed for encour- 
agements himself, and it was the luckiest thing in the 
world for him that he happened to fall in with young 
Eamsay just when he did. 

had an idea,” continued the Captain, ‘^of pro- 
posing to Mr. Waddel to take you to board with him ,* 
but it occurred to me that you might prefer to board 
somewhere else, and I am perfectly willing to accom- 
modate you in this matter. 

Uncle, I wouldn’t board with him for five hundred 
thousand dollars.” 

‘AVell, my son, I will not place you with him. I 
think the best way will be for you to board at Mr. 
Newby’s fo]- the present. After you become acquainted 
with the otlier boarding houses, you can take your 
choice among them.” 


108 


MASTER WILLIAM MITIEN. 


Silence ensued, which we fill np with a more partic- 
ular account of Mr. Waddel. As he was made a Doc- 
tor of Divinity soon after the time at which we art* 
speaking of him, we will anticipate a little, and cal I 
him henceforth Doctor Waddel. 

He was about five feet nine inches high ; of stout 
muscular frame, and a little inclined to corpulency. In 
limb, nearly perfect. His head was uncommonly largt*, 
and covered with a thick coat of dark hair. His fore- 
head was projecting, and in nothing else more remark- 
able. His eyes were grey, and overshadowed by thick, 
heavy eye-brows, always closely knit in his calmest 
hours, and almost over-lai3ping in his angry moods. 
His nose was bluntly acquiline. His lips were rather 
thick, and generally closely comi)ressed. His complex- 
ion was slightly adust. His tout ensemble was, as we 
have said, extremely austere j but it was false to his 
heart ; for he was benevolent, affectionate, charitable, 
hospitable, and kind. He was cheerful, and even 
playful, in his disposition. Good boys felt at perfect 
ease in his presence, and even bad ones could, and did, 
approach him with the utmost freedom. He never 
whipt in a passion — indeed, he seemed to be in his 
most pleasant moods when he administered correction, 
and hence, a stranger to him would naturally suppose 
that he took pleasure in flogging. It was not so, how- 
ever. He hardly ever whipt, but upon the report of a 
monitor ; and after a year or two from Master Mitten’s 
introduction to him, very rarely, but upon a verdict 
of a jury of students. His government was one of 
touching ‘‘moral suasion but he administered it in a 
new way. lustead of infusing it gently into the head 
and heart, and letting it percolate through the system. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


109 


and slowly neutralize the ill humors with which it 
came in contact, he applied it to the extremities, and 
drove it right up into the head and heart by percus- 
sion. He seemed to regard vices as consuming fires, 
and he adopted the engine process of extinguishing 
them. One would suppose that moral reforms, so 
hastily produced could not last ,• but we have living 
cases to prove that they have lasted for fifty-three 
years, and are still fresh and vigorous. It is a very 
remarkable fact that Doctor Waddel never flogged a 
boy for a deficient lesson. To be ‘Hurried off,’ ^ as it 
was called — that is, to have to get a lesson over a 
second time, was considered such a disgrace by the 
students, that if this did not cure the fault, whipping, 
he well knew would nof. He would often mount his 
horse at eight o’ clock at night, and visit the students 
at their boarding houses. Sometimes he would visit 
them incognito, and recount his observations the next 
day to the whole school, commending such youths as 
he found well employed, and censuring such as he 
found ill employed. And what were the fruits of this 
rigid but equitable discipline % From under the teach- 
ings of this man have gone forth one Vice-President, 
and many Foreign and Cabinet Ministers ; and Sena- 
tors, Congressmen, Governors, Judges, Presidents, and 
Professors of Colleges, eminent Divines, Barristers, 
Jurists, Legislators, Physicians, Scholars, Military and 
Naval officers innumerable. 

Captain Thompson returned to Mr. Newby’s. His 
name had been made known to the boys during his 
absence. One of them introduced himself to him as 
the son of Doctor Hay, a near and dear friend of the 
Captain, in times gone by. The youth was made 


110 


31 ASTER WILLIAM 3I1TTEN. 


acquainted with William — offered him a part of his 
bed and study, which were accepted. Before retiring 
to rest, the Captain paid a hasty visit to William’s 
new dormitory. He found him at a table with three 
others, who were studying their lessons before a rous- 
ing fire. They seemed very cheerful and happy. 
After a few questions, he withdrew, and left them to 
their studies. An early hour the next morning found 
him on his way homeward. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Monday morning came, and William moved sadly 
to the Academy. Soon the students of every size began 
to pour in from every quarter ) and soon the whole 
school was in commotion. George Cary had got a thou- 
sand lines in Yirgil ! He was to leave his class, of 
course ; for such a lesson had never been heard of be- 
fore, even in Dr. Waddel’s school, where the students 
seemed to take in Latin and Greek by absorption.* As 
his classmates came in, they compared notes, and not 
one of them had got more than three hundred lines. 

I didn’t get but two hundred and ten,” said one. 
didn’t get but two hundred,” said another. 

Well, I’ m at the foot of all,” said a third, I didn’t 
get but a hundred and fifty ; so I’m doubly distanced, 
and left, of course.” 

William heard these reports with overwhelming 
amazement. The largest lesson he had ever recited 
was thirty-five lines, and the largest he had ever heard 
of being recited was one hundred. He had been led 


*George McDuffie afterwards overtopped Cary, for he recited twelve hun- 
dred and twelve lines, in Horace, for a Monday morning’s lesson. 


MASTER WILLIAM IIITTEN. 


Ill 


to believe that bis native village was the very focus of 
intellectual illumination and mental vigor^ and that he 
himself was the centre-beam of the focus. He did not 
suppose that Latin and Greek were made for country 
folks at all, much less for poor folks ; and, behold,, 
there stood before him homespun, *Gilbo-shod, potato - 
fed chaps, even smaller than himself, who had mastered 
one hundred and fifty lines in Virgil, acknowledging 
themselves the fag-end of their class, and ^‘doubly 
distanced !’’ His mind was immediately made up to 
take the selectee class, mortifying as it was to a gentle- 
man of his calibre to have it known at home that he 
had retrograded ; but could he keep up Avith this class t 
He had little hope of doing so ; but so shocking was 
the idea of falling two classes below his home stand, 
that he resolved to try it at all eA^ents. He had one 
consolation, at least, and that was, that none of the 
school-boys knew of his adAmncement before he came 
hither. Withal, he concluded that there must be a some 
thing about Dr. Waddel’s school that made all the boys 
who came to it smart, and whateA^er that something 
might be he surely would catch it in a short time. 
The Doctor soon made his appearance, and William 
signified to him his choice of classes. 

The school Avas summoned to prayer, and at the con- 
clusion of this service the monitors bills were handed 
in, and the dancing room cleared. The Doctor read 

*Wo give this name as it was pronounced. AA^e think it was spelled 
Guillehou. He was shoemaker-general for the school, and one of tho 
best that ever lived. The soles of his shoes were about half an inch 
thick, and the heels three-quarters— the upper leather In exact propor- 
tion with the soles. In short, they were brogans, in all respects, of the 
stoutest sort. It took them about a month to show outward signs of an 
inward foot. Then tliey began to wrinkle down to something like foot- 
shape ; with only a tolerable greasing, they were good for a year, certain. 


112 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


over to himself the hills, with an affected seriousness, 
while a death-like silence reigned around him, his 
countenance, meantime, assuming all varieties of ex- 
pressions. It was very easy for those well acquainted 
with him to collect from these indications the general 
character of the hills in hand ; and the signs this morn- 
ing were of things grave, novel, funny and common. 

The reading finished, the Doctor began: Pretty 
heavy hills ! some things new even to me. Garrett 
Sandige, go and get the change to settle off these 
hills, and see that it is such as has the genuine ring 
To a correct understanding of the first case on the 
docket, it is necessary to premise a little. John Free- 
man had been exalted for the first time to the dignity 
of Monitor on the preceding week, and he had over- 
acted his part a little ,• he was rather too vigilant and 
authoritative. 

To economize time, while Garret Sandige was collect- 
ing the change, the Doctor sounded the docket in a 
humorously emphatic and pompous style : 

Austin B. Overstreet^ for heing idle r^eatedly ! What 
say you, Austin V 

deny it, sir,’’ said Overstreet. 

Monitors, speak!’’ 

^^Dr. Waddel, almost every day in the week he fol- 
lows me all about with his Greek grammar in his hand, 
and goes on in this way : Tujgto tupteis, tuptei, (of all the 
monitors) tupteton, tupteton, (that I ever saw in my life) 
iuptomen tuptete, (John Freeman takes the lead) tuptousi, 
(rather rousy.) I told him I’d spunk him, (report him) 
if he didn’t quit it, and he wouldn’t, so I spunked 
him.” 

During these pleadings the Doctor’s face put on all 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


113 


sorts of expressions j to maintain the dignity of the 
Monitor’s character, it was of the first importance that 
he should hear him with the i^rofoundest respect and 
gravity ; and yet, there was something so novel and 
farcical in this case, that he could with difficulty sup- 
press open laughter. He drew his eyebrows to their 
closest, pressed his lips forcibly together for a moment, 
and then passed judgment : 

This is a new case — I confess it perplexes me not a 
little. It seems to be a case in which study and idle- 
ness are so equally and intimately blended that you 
can’t hit idleness without at least grazing study ^ nor 
indulge study without indulgiug Me^im. If^ as soon as 
Overstreet began to make ui) his compound, you had 
informed me, Mr. Monitor, of his experiment, I could 
have given you a recipe that would have precipitated 
the feculent matter so entirely from the pure, that we 
might have dealt with it this morning without danger 
of disturbing the pure ; but as it is, with no antece- 
dent law to meet such a case, and under the maxim 
that it is best to err on the safe side - the side of mercy — 
if we err at ail, I will let the matter pass for this 
time j but if you come up again, Austin, with such a 
mixture of Greek and English in the presence of a 
moMtor, I’ll teach you the first future tense of your 
Gre^ verb in such a style that you’ll never think of 
mingl^g English with it again while you live, unless 
it be tlie true English.” 

fei^fore this case was disposed of, Sandige had 
returned wi^ about a half dozen hickories beautifully 
trimmed, ibe Doctor took one, drew it through his 
left hand, found it knotiess, gave it an experimental 
flouri^, liked liie ring, and proceeded : 


114 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Garry -Osko- Sapling j for being idle repeatedly !^’ 

Garry stepped into the ring without defense. 

The Doctor gave him one cut and paused — Garry/ ^ 
said he, very good humoredly, ‘^that doesn’t sound 
right. My ear don’t often deceive me.” So saying 
he stooped down and raised up the pants of the left 
leg, pulled down the stocking, and discovered a 
tasteful and most artistic binding of the calf and its 
appurtenances, with long narrow strips of old shirt. 
The Doctor manifested not the least surprise at this, 
but very deliberately commenced unwinding. At 
about every yard detached, he would pause and look 
up to the school with an expression of countenance 
which seemed to say, ^^boys needn’t try to fool me.” 
Having unrolled about four yards and a half of swath- 
ing from this leg, he proceeded to the other, and did 
the like. During the whole process the school was a 
roar of laughter, and few laughed more heartily than 
Garry himself. Having returned the stockings and 
pants to their places, ^^let us have fair play, Garry,” 
said the Doctor ! Fair play is a jewel. Now stock- 
ings are fair, and pants are fair, thick or thin. If I 
can’t get through them, why, that’s my fault, not 
yours.” So saying, he let Garry have the remaining 
six with a brilliancy that fully compensated for the 
lost pleiad. 

Why, Neddy, this is an awful account for one 
week. Monitor, are any of these charges upon your 
own observation but the first?” 

“None, sir. They are all by order of the boys 
whose names are to them.” 

“Explain James Freer, what is meant by knocking 
by your nose.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


115 


He came by me, and struck bis fist as hard as he 
could, as close to my nose as he could drive it to miss 
my nose.’^ 

“ Did you tell him to quit?’^ 

“Yes, sir.’^ 

“And did he afterwards repeat the blowf ^ 

“No, sir, but he went knocking, by the noses of 
twenty boys in the same way.’^ 

“ How was your case, Thomas Murray 
“Exactly the same as Jim Freer’s, sirJ^ 

“What have you to say to all this, Neddy?” 

“ Why, Doctor Waddel, I was just playing with 
them. I quit as soon as I saw they didn’t like it. 
None of the other boys got mad at it.” 

“ And what’s your case, Malory Elvers?” — Malory 
was the smallest boy in school, save one. 

“ He come up to me, sah — he came up to me, sah — 
an’ he put his face mos’ touchin’ mine, and he opened 
his mouth and eyes jus’ as wide as he could stretch 
’ em — puttin’ out his arms over me, too, like he was 
try in’ to scare me.” 

“What do you say to that. Brace?” 

“I just did it for a little fun — I wanted to see what 
he would do — and I got the worst of it, too, for he but- 
ted me on the nose, and I didn’t set him down for it.” 

Did you butt him on the nose, Malory ?” 

“I give him a little butt.” 

“Oh well, the case is easily settled; if you take 
justice into your own hands, you must not appeal to 
me. I regard a little butt full pay for a big look.^^ 

“ And what have you to say, James Collier, against 
the defendant? ‘ Plaguing with a dead cat ’ is a new 
offense. Explain !” 


116 


3IASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


He took a long forked stick/ ^ said Collier, ^^and , 
stuck an old dead cat’s -neck on it, and swung her up 
by the head, and swung the stick on his shoulder, and 
went all about among the boys like he didn’t see ’em, 
stinkin’ ’em up. Sometimes he’d meet a boy, and 
when he got close up to him, he’ d wheel off another 
way, as if he just thought of something, and swung 
the dead cat by ’em almost touchin’ ’em. I, and 
Andrew Govan, and Jim Tinsley, and Sam McGraw, 
and Alfred Hobby, were talking, and I saw Brace 
coming with his cat, and I hallo’d to him and said: 
^Now, Brace, I’ve seen you scatter two or three par. 
cels of boys with that cat ; and if you come here with 
it. I’ll spunk you. He pretended he didn’t hear what 
I said, and kept coming up, asking me all the time 
what I said 5 and he knew what I said well enough. 
All the other boys run, but I wouldn’t run ; and he 
comes to me, and says: ‘Jimmey, I’ve been hunting 
all over the school to find somebody to help me bury 
this poor cat ; but they are the hard-heartedest set of 
boys that I ever saw ; won’t you help me, Jimmey ?’ 

So without saying anything to him, I went otf and 
spunked him ; and just as I started off he turned round 
as quick as he could, and whirled his cat almost all 
round me. And I don’t b’lieve there’s another boy in 
the world that could have stood that cat as. long as he 
did, just to have his fun out of the other boys.” 

What do you say to all this, Neddy?” 

^‘Doctor Waddel, twenty boys will tell you I did 
ask them to go with me to bury the cat. I don’t think 
Jim Collier had a right to order me away from the 
other boys he was talking to. If he didn’t like the 
cat and my company, why didn’t he go off as the other 


MASTER WILLIAM IIITTEN. 


117 


boys did ? They all thought the cat smelt bad, but it 
didn’t. It didn’t smell one bit.” Here the Doctor 
opened his eyes, and showed signs of light which 
materially changed the aspect of the case. It imme- 
diately flashed upon his mind, that the weather had 
been very cold for a week, and that, perchance, the 
cat was not offensive. 

James,” continued he, did you smell the cat 

I didn’t stay long enough to smell it.” 

“ But you say he whirled it round you as you went 
off ; did you smell it then ?” 

I think I would have smelt it if I hadn’t held my 
breath.” 

Doctor Waddel,” said Brace, “he couldn’t have 
smelt it to save his life. Call every boy he says I 
went to with it, and not one of them will say that he 
smelt it.” 

A number of witnesses were called, and not one tes- 
tifled that he smelt the cat. Most of them had kept out 
of smell of it ; some held their noses ; and others, by 
whom it had been whipt, remembered nothing about it. 

“ The case is certainly wonderfully changed,” said 
the Doctor. ‘ ^ Had a single witness testifled positively 
Idiat he smelt the cat, I would not have held you 
altogether guiltless. Brace j not that I deny your right 
to shoulder as many dead cats as you please, and to 
carry them where you please, provided you do not 
push yourself, with your charge, into the company of 
others, and to their annoyance. But you have no 
right to constrain a student to leave his company, or 
his place, or to endure a stench. As to your pretend- 
ing to want help to bury the cat, I understand all that 
perfectly j you wanted no such thing. 


118 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 

^^What have you to say, Gilbert Hay, against 
Brace f ’ 

^‘He threw a lightwood knot on my foot, on purpose, 
and hurt it so that I haven’t got over it yet.” 

“Why did you do that. Brace?” 

“I declare. Doctor Waddel, I didn’t mean to drop 
it on his foot.” 

“Yes you did, sir ” 

“Address me, Gilbert — not him,” said the Doctor. 

“Well, Doctor Waddel, he kept carrying his light- 
wood knot about among the boys, and as soon as he’d 
come near one, he’ d pretend to let it slip off his shoul- 
der, and pretend to be trying to catch it j and halloo, 

^ take care of your toes — I can’t hold it,’ and let it fall 
right by the boy’s foot, just to make him jump. He 
did two or three boys so, ’fore he came to me, and 
when he came to me, he let it fall on my foot, sure 
enough.” 

“ Is all this so, Neddy?” 

“Yes, sir; but he shows himself I didn’t go to 
do it.” 

“No, sir, ^you didn’t go to do it,’ but you went to 
do what you knew was very apt to do it. So if James 
Freer, or Thomas Murray, had happened to lean sud- 
denly forward, or been accidentally pushed forward 
just as you were striking by their noses, he would have 
got a very severe blow ; and you wouldn’t have went 
to do that, either. You have no right to sport with 
the feelings of others, for your fun. So I’ll give you a 
little for your nose-fun^ and two or three tittles for your 
foot fun, and the usual price of idleness unrex)eated.” 

Ned had a pair of breeches which he called his 
Monday morning breeches. They were very full in the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


119 


legs — trousers, in fact. In tlieir natural position, they 
hung tangent to the calves of his legs, or nearly so j 
but, by catching them near the hips, and pulling them 
backward, and a little upward, they pressed tight upon 
the shins and swung entirely clear of the calves, by at 
least an inch. Ned had acquired such skill in direct- 
ing the play of these trousers, that he had brought his, 
calves through several penal Mondays almost, or 
entirely, intact. He knew the velocity of the switch 
and he gave his twitch just at the instant of its reach- 
ing the leg ; and at the crack, hands off ! the pants 
were back to their place. 

Ned stept into the ring, and received the first cut 
with his usual success. It was a clear fiash. The 
Doctor, without pausing, went through the motions of 
the second, but arrested it in its descent, and saw, with 
a smile, the pants fly back to receive it. ‘^I thought,’^ 
said he, ^Hhat lick made a false report. How was 
that done, Neddy % You keep your hands a little too 
much akimbo for the occasion. Hands off, and fair 
X>lay, Neddy ! Big breeches are perfectly fair ; but no 
I)ulling !” The remaining nine told (as an officer said 
of a park of artillery in battle,) ‘^with beautiful 
effect 

David Murray, for throwing a chew of tobacco in James 
Nepheiv’s eye !\ 

David^ commonly called Long David, was the tallest, 
and, for his height, the slimmest student in the school. 
He stood full six feet in his stocking. 

‘^How was that, David said the Doctor. 

^^He asked me,’^ said David, ^‘to throw him down 
a chaw o’ tobacco, and I done it, and it hit him in the 
eye.” 


120 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


Where were you, David? Where did you throw 
it down from?’^ 

I wasn’t anywhere, sir. Because I am tall, all 
these little fellows are constantly running up to me, 
and askin’ me to throw ’em down a chaw o’ tobacco, 
jus’ like I was ’way up in' a tree.” 

“ Well, David,” said the Doctor, chuckling in spite 
of himself, “if a boy asks you throw him down 
chaw o’ tobacco,’ I don’t think you are responsible for 
where it falls.” 

“ What !” the reader may be disposed to ask, “ did 
he ever whip grown up young men ?” ISTot within our 
recollection, because we never knew but one who ren- 
dered himself liable to this kind of correction, and 
that one left the school in quick time after the com- 
mission of his offence ; but tradition said that he had 
done that thing ; and he used to flourish his hickory 
with graceful, but terrific vigor of arm, when a little 
fretted with matters and things in general, and thun- 
der forth, “I’ll whip you, sirs, from Eobert Pettigrew 
down to James Scriven, inclusive^ The first was the 
largest, the last the smallest student in the school. 

A number of other cases, besides those mentioned, 
were disposed of ; but there was nothing remarkable in 
them. They were chiefly cases of idleness in whicli 
judgment was confessed ; but the sessions closed witli 
a case of contempt of court, which deserves to be 
reported, firsts because it is the only case of the kind, 
we believe, that ever occurred during the instructor- 
ship of Doctor Waddel; and, secondly, because it 
shows how he disposed of cases wliich demande 
immediate notice, but which he could not visit with 
the usual penalty, without violating his^ fixed rule, 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


121 


never to flog in a passion. The last case on docket 
was just disposed of, when something that the Doctor 
said or did, now forgotten, led Brace to exclaim pretty 
rudely, Doctor Waddel', tliaVs partial!” ^‘What, 
sir !” thundered the Doctor from a hurricane counten- 
ance. He paused a second — then dropt the switch he 
had in his hand, and seizing JSTed by all the apparel 
that covered his breast, he shook him tremendously. 
He lifted him high and sat him down emphatically, 
but not injuriously. He now waltzed him round the 
ring in the quickest possible time. He then made a 
path with him, five feet deep, through the boys — 
brought him back with a double-jerk — took another 
turn with him as before, and dismissed him at the door 
with a push that sent him off at a ^^hcdf liammondP 
As soon as impetus had spent itself, IMed stopt, looked 
back, looked up, looked around, like a man in delirium 
tremens, and then set off at a tip toe, at a rather brisk 
gait, like one creeping to catch a butterfly, and dis- 
coursing, as he went, in a sort of half whisper : The 
man^s mad! The ma-a-n^s mad! He’s made me dmnk, 
turning me roimd. If I didn’t think he’d MU me, I’ll 
never budge !” 

The morning’s exercises were exceedingly interesting 
to Master Mitten, of course, and he was allowed half a 
day to muse upon them ; for he was without the text 
book of his class, and could not be supplied until 
Doctor Waddel went home to his dinner. The forenoon 
of the day was employed chiefly in taking observa- 
tions of the costumes, manners, and conduct of the 
boys 5 but part of the time was spent with young Hay 
and three of his classmates, with whom he studied 
during that day. They construed alternately a sen- 


122 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


tence aloud, and if the versiou of the reader was 
corrected by some one of the listeners, it was consid- 
ered as properly rendered, and adopted by all. Occa- 
sionally, a dispute would arise between them as to the 
case of a noun, the mood and tense of a verb, or the 
application of some rule of syntax, and the dispute 
was invariably settled by an appeal to the grammar 
which each one kept always by him in studying his 
lessons. Herein, he found one clue to a solution of the 
mystery which had astonished him so, at the opening 
of school— the prodigious lessons which the boys 
recited — and before the next day he discovered 
another which solved the mystery entirely j it was 
that the very idlest of the boys studied twice as much 
as any school-boys he had ever seen. In the afternoon 
his selectee was furnished him, and he set in regularly 
with his class. He begged to be excused from reading 
in his turn, as the author was new to him. He was 
indulged ; and thus he was virtually carried over his 
first lesson. One reading of it, to him, was enough to 
make him as perfect in it as any in the class, and con. 
sequently he recited it creditably. He had hardly 
concluded his first recitation, when the signal for 
evening prayer was given ; the students were assem- 
bled, prayer was held, and they were dismissed for the 
night. Thus ended the most terrific day of William\s 
pupilage. We have been particular in giving its 
history, not only for its effect upon Master Mitten, but 
that the reader might have a practical exhibition of 
Doctor Waddel’s government. Terrific as the day was 
to William, it was the first of a long series of days 
pregnant with good luck. 


31 ASTER WILLIA3I 3IITTEK 


123 


CHAPTEE X. 

By reason of detention at tlie river, and an accident 
to liis veliicle on the way, Captain Thompson did not 
reach home until near eight o^ clock on Monday night ; 
and at his request the tidings of his return were kept 
from his sister until the next morning. As soon as 
they reached her, she hastened over to him, to hear his 
report from Dr. Waddeks school. 

How did yon find things, brother f’ said she I 
hope you got a good boarding-house, and a comforta- 
ble room for William this cold weather ; and that before 
you left you saw him well provided with bedding, fire- 
wood and all the other little conveniences that he needs, 
for you know he has no idea of providing for himself. 
Did he seem satisfied with his new school ‘I What sort 
of a man is Mr. Waddel ? Is he as severe a man as he 
is represented to be V’ 

“ Bless me, Anna !’’ said the Captain. ^AYhat time 
have I had to prepare answers for all these questions ? 
I got there at four o’ clock on Saturday afternoon, and 
left a little after sunrise on Sunday, so that I had no 
time to learn much about Mr. Waddel or his school. 
Oh, Anna, who do you think was the first boy I got 
acquainted with there ? David Kamsay, son of Doctor 
Eamsay, who married Miss. Laurens, daughter of 
Henry Laurens, President of the first Congress and 
Minister to Holland. He seemed to be very well sat- 
isfied there — quite cheerful and happy — fine boy.” 

Couldn’t yon have got William into a room with 
him ?” 

Well — I didn’t try— he boards with Mr. Waddel, 
and I thought ” 


124 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


^^Oh! brother! I wish you had placed him with 
young Eamsay, immediately under Mr. WaddePseye. 
I should have no fears, then, of his getting into bad 
habits.’^ 

“Well, he can board there yet, if he wishes to, for 
I only paid his board at Mr. Newby’s for one quarter, 
and I told him to visit the other boarding houses and 
select the one he liked best, and I would place him at 
it. I am determined to make him just as comfortable 
and happy as I can, at Mr. Waddel’s. His room-mate 
is a sou of our old friend Dr. Hay, of Washington — 
nice youth — fine school, I’ve no doubt — one hundred 
and fifty scholars ! Industrious, hearty looking fel- 
lows, of all sizes ! Willi ngton is the finest town in the 
world, for boys. Anna, I’ m a little pressed with busi- 
ness this morning j come over another time, and 'we 
will talk the matter over more leisurely.” So saying, 
he retired. 

“Sister Mary,” said Mrs. Mitten to Mrs. Thompson, 
“did brother David give you any of the particulars 
of his trip to Mr. Waddel’s*? Did he tell you how 
William liked the school and his teacher f’ 

“No,’’ said Mrs. Thompson; “I asked him how 
William liked the school, and he said he hadn’t seen 
the school, when he came away. I asked him how he 
liked Mr. Waddel, and he said William thought Mr. 
Waddel a very grum looking man ; but that he had had 
no opportunity of getting acquainted with him before 
he left. But he (Mr. Thompson) said that it seemed to 
him that the man and the place were made for William, 
that Willington was the most quiet, peaceful little vil- 
lage he ever saw ; in a healthy region, wdth delightful 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


125 


water, beautiful study -grounds— industrious, hard- 
working, orderly boys, etc., etc.’^ 

^‘Sister Mary, you may depend upon it, brother 
David was disappointed in the school, or William is 
dissatisfied with it, or both are dissatisfied with the 
teacher, or the board,- or something else, or he would 
not put us off with these general remarks. As sure 
as you’re born, there is something there that he knows 
will not please me. If all had been to his liking and 
mine, he wouldn’t have waited for questions from me, 
knowing my solicitude about the boy. He would have 
spoJcen in raptures about everything. How agreeably 
disappointed William had been — what a charming 
family, and what comfortable quarters he had got in — 
what an accomplished, agreeable, fascinating man Mr. 
Waddel is, etc , etc. What is the use of his trying to 
conceal these things from me? As soon as I get a 
letter from William, he will tell me all about them, 
and brother David had as well let me know about 
them at once.” 

sister Anna, he cannot be dissatisfied with the 
teacher or the school, as is plain from what he has said 
to both of us. I reckon the living is rather rough up 
there, for he said it was the cheapest board that he 
ever paid. Just think of it, sister Anna ; ten dollars 
a month for board, w^ashing, lodging, and firewood ! 
The kindest man in the w^orld couldn’t sui)ply boys 
with dainties at these rates. And all this wdthout 
-making any allow^ance for damage to room, furniture, 
bedsteads, bedding, breaking wdndow^ glasses, plaster, 
jng, and the like, which is sure to occur in students’ 
rooms ; for boys are certain to get into romps and 
frolicii at times, and then everything fiies before them. 


126 


MASTER WILLIAM IIITIEK 


^owj I reckon husband found the boys fare very idain 
at Mr. IS'ewby’s, and thought, maybe, that it would 
distress yon to know this fact, as William has never 
been used to such living. As for accomplished, agree- 
able, fascinating school-masters 

Well, sister Mary, it may be so ; I hope it is Uq 
worse. Learn all yon can about the school from 
brother David, and report to me. Good morning 
Mrs. Mitten went home, and immediately addressed 
to her son a letter, wherein, among other things, she 
said : As yet, I have learned but very little about 

the school or your teacher from your uncle j but as he 
seemed to think it promises everything good to yon, I 
ought to be satisfied. I have always been under the 
imj)ression that Mr. Waddel’s school was in the woods 
but your uncle informs us that it is in the lovely, quiet 
little village of Willington. I have looked for it on 
the map of South Carolina, but I cannot find it put 
down there. IS’ow, I charge you, my dear boy, not to 
be running about the streets of nights, to the disturb- 
ance of the villagers. You are now, thank Heaven ! 

away from the G boys, and I hope you never 

will again fall into such company. I am happy to 
learn that you have had the good fortune to become 
the room-mate of Dr. Hay’s son. It is a long time 
since we had the i)leasure of the Doctor’s society, but 
we never can forget it, and we take it for granted that 
the son of such a man must be all tliat a son should 
be. But even the best boys will occasionally have 
their romps and frolics, and then they are very apt to 
forget their duty to their hostess. I do not forbid you 
these little pastimes ; hut I strictly enjoin it upon you, if 
they occur in your room, and any injury results to bed. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


127 


bedding, bureau, table, waslistaud, basin, pitcher, 
looking glass, window glass, or anything else, to go 
immediately to Mr. Newby, and insist ui^on his charg- 
ing the whole damage to you, assuring him that I will 
pay it promptly and cheerfully. So cheap is the 
board, that I know he cannot afford to bear the 
expense of breakage. 

‘‘ There is another thing upon which I would repeat 
a caution already given you ; you will often be applied 
to, as you have been, to carry some of your less gifted 
school-mates over their lessons. Do these little kind- 
nesses for them cheerfully, and for the honor of your 
name, do not think of charging or receiving anything 
for them. Study neatness and cleanliness of person. 
Before you left me, I told you to change your linen 
every day, but as the number of your shirts were 
reduced at yop.r departure, and more especially in 
mercy to Mrs. Newby’s wash woman, and her mistress, 
I will revoke that order, and say to you, change only 
three times a week. Eat what is set before you, asJcing 
no questions^ 

Mrs. Mitten added a great many other wise and 
pious ci3unsels, but as they would be of but little inter- 
est to the reader, we sui)press them. She concluded her 
letter, folded it, addressed it to plaster William 
Mitten, Willington, Abbeville District, South Caro- 
lina,” and sent it to the post-office. As there was no 
post-office at that time in Willington, the letter went 
to Abbeville Court House, where it remained three 
weeks from its date before it was called for. At the 
end of that time it was reported to Dr. Waddel, who 
took it from the office, and the same day delivered it 
to William. 


128 


MASTER WILLIAM 3IITTEN. 


Three days x)assed away before Cai^tain Thompson 
found it convenient to give his sister a] circumstantial 
detail of matters and things at Willington j and on 
the fourth he set out for Augusta on business of impor- 
tance. As soon as he was gone, Mrs. Mitten called on 
his wife. 

Sister Mary,^’ said she, ^‘have you picked up any- 
thing from brother David about Willington ?” 

l^ot a word, sister Ann. He’s always too busy, or 
too sleepy, to talk upon this subject. Whenever I 
bring it up, like old Jenkins in the Yicar of Wake- 
field, with his one sentence of learning, he begins to 
run on about young Eamsay, as he did to you, but 
with this difference : that he was serious when he 
delivered his harangue to you, and he chuckles every 
time he repeats it— or begins to repeat it — ^to me. I 
believe you are right, sister Anna ; there is something 
about Mr. Waddel’s school which he doesn’t wish us 
to know j and as for my part, he may keep it to him- 
self till doomsday, for aught I care ; I shall ask him 
no more about it.” 

^^Well, sister Mary, he can’t keep us long in sus- 
pense, for I have written to William, and I shall get a 
letter from him in a week or so that will explain every- 
thing.” 

At Augusta chance threw Captain Thompson and 
Thomas M. Gilmer in the same room of a public 
house, for two nights. They were made acquainted^ 
and among various other topics of convei-sation, Doctor 
Waddel’s school came upon the tapis. That school,” 
said Mr. Gilmer, ^^just fills my notion of what a boy’s 
school ought to be. Plain dressing, plain eating, hard 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 129 

working, close studying, close watching — and, when 
needful, good whipping.’^ 

You are well acquainted with the school, then.’’ 

^^Well, not so much from my own observation as 
from what my boys and my neighbors’ boys tell me ; 
for I’m so clumsy, as you see, that I go no where but 
where I’m obliged to ; but everybody says the same 
thing about the school — that it is the best school in the 
United States.” 

^^Mr. Waddel is said to be very severe with his 
pupils.” 

“I reckon not. No doubt, if they don’t walk 
straight he gives them the timber, as he ought to do ; 
but all his scholars that I know like him very much, 
and they seem to consider all other schools as very 
small affairs, compared with his.” 

Captain Thompson after making a sufficient apology 
Tor his inquisitiveness, fished out of Mr. Gilmer that 
Governor Mathews had three or four grandsons at 
Doctor Waddel’ s. That Senator Bibb had two 
brothers-in-law there — that Congressman Early had a 
brother there-— that Judge Tait had a son there. That 
Congressman Meriwether (David) had a son there. 
And before the Captain left Augusta, he learned that 
Senator, Governor Milledge had a nephew there. And 
last, (and best known of all, among men, women, and 
children, throughout the State,) that William J. Hobby 
had a son there. This gentleman was the editor of the 
Augusta Herald, and in the use of all the implements 
of editorial warfare unsurpassed by any journalist of 
his day. A story was current about this time, that a 
lady, expressing a wish to a female friend to have her 
infant daughter to bear the greatest name in the 


130 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


world — ^^name her,’’ said the friend, William J. 
Edbby.^^ Should the reader be disposed to inquire 
how Mr. Gilmer came to know so many of the grandee 
patrons of Dr. Waddel’s school, we answer, that he 
was connected by blood, or marriage, with all but two 
of them ; and one of the two lived in the same county 
with him, was as intimate with him as a connection, 
and had rescued his son George and other boys of this 
very school from a falling house under which they had 
taken shelter in a storm ; and the other resided in an 
adjoining county, and was well known to him, and a 
judge of the circuit which embraced his county. 

The Captain, fully charged with these woman-cool- 
ing facts, wended his way homeward in high spirits. 
His exultation was increased upon reaching home by 
finding a letter waiting him from Doctor Waddel. 

As soon as he had reached his dwelling, and had 
taken refreshment — ^^come,” said he, ^^Mary, let’s go 
over to Anna’s, and have our too long postponed con- 
ference about Mr. Waddel’s.” 

If you are going to talk seriously to your sister, to 
relieve her from her anxiety about her child. I’ll go 
with you ; but if you are going to run on with all that 
stuff about the whole breed of Eamsay’s, who seem to 
have turned your head, I will not go one foot.” 

Well, I am going to be serious, and to give Anna 
a full statement of things at Mr. Waddel’s as they are. 
I know it will distress her, and I want you to help me 
reconcile her to them.” 

They went, and, after the usual salutations, the Cap- 
tain began : 

Well, Anna, I have come over to tell you fully how 
matters stand at Mr. Waddel’s. My reasons for post- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


131 


poning the disclosure was, that I was in hopes of re- 
ceiving a letter from Mr. Waddel that would help to 
reconcile you to the state of things at Willington. So 
brief was my stay at that place, that I really learned 
but little of the particulars in which you are most inter- 
ested 5 but I saw enough to satisfy me that to all who 
would have their sons removed from vice, well instruc- 
ted, invigorated in mind and body, and early taught 
self-reliance, there was no better school than this. But 
all things about it are of the very cheapest, plainest 
and roughest kind. There is one framed house in Wil- 
lington, and that is the head teacher’s ; all the rest are 
of logs, and open at that (Mrs. Mitten turned pale.) 
William’s study and bed room are of this kind. He 
occupies it with young Hay and two others. Its only 
furniture is two mattresses, (on the floor,) a table and 
four split bottomed chairs. The boys cut and haul their 
own wood and make their own flres. (Mrs. Thompson 
turns pale.) The fare is very plain — necessarily so, 
from the price of board. Mr. Waddel is a very rigid 
disciplinarian, (they both turn paler,) but not tyran- 
nical. His government is strictly equitable. Among 
all the boys that I saw at Newby’s and Waddel’ s, I did 
not see one who was as well dressed as your William. 
Even Doctor Earn — however, we’ll pass him over. This 
is as it should be. Boys who cut wood and carry light- 
wood knots have no use for fine clothes. I need hardly 
tell you that your boy, among them, looks like a Bird 
of Paradise among so many crows. I wish you had 
taken my advice in laying in his wardrobe, for I am 
sure his finery will bring upon him the taunts of his 
school-fellows. And now I have told you the worst — 
the very worst. But I have something to brighten this 


132 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


picture a little. And first, read this letter from Mr. 
Waddel.'' 

^^You read it brotlier,’^ said Mrs. Mitten, with 
swimming eyes and tremulous voice. 

The Captain reads : 

^^WlLLINGTON, &C., &0. 

Dear Sir: On taking leave of me, you requested 
me to give you early information of the standing, con- 
duct, and progress of your nephew ; and, as my letter 
will reach you through the kindness of Mr. Jones, the 
hearer, nearly or quite a week sooner than it would by 
regular — or rather irregular — course of mail, I avail 
myself of the opportunity to comply with your 
request. William has been under my instruction just 
a week to-day j and though I would not venture confi- 
dent predictions of him, upon so short an acquaint- 
ance, I will give you my present estimate of him, for 
what it is worth. If I ami not grossly deceived in 
him, he is destined to a most brilliant future. He was 
a little rusty in the principles of construction at first — 
no, in the application of them — for of the principles 
themselves, he is master, and he improves in the appli- 
cation of them with every lesson. His class was a 
week ahead of him in the Greek grammar, when he 
entered it. He has already made up the deficiency, 
and now stands fully equal to the best in his class in 
this study — indeed, in all their studies. He is moral, 
orderly, and studious, and if he will only do half as 
much for himself as nature has done for him, he will 
be the prid^ of his kindred and the boast of his coun- 
try. You will not be much more delighted at receiv- 
ing this intelligence, than I am in communicating it. 

^Wours very respectfully, Moses Waddel.’^ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


133 


There/’ said the Captain, bouncing up in trans- 
ports and throwing the, letter in his sister^ s lap, 
there, sis, what do you think of that? i^'ow, as you 
are a good Christian, play Methodist for one time, and 
go to shouting. *^1 begin to believe in shouting, if 
religion is what it is cracked up to be.’^ 

“Brother,” said she, “I am just as happy as a 
mother can be at such tidings j but what do they sig- 
nify, when my poor child may be brought home to me 
in less than a month, a corpse? William’s constitu- 
tion can never stand the hardships to which he is 
exposed. A hard mattress on the floor, in an open 
hut, this bitter cold weather ! Cutting wood ! — the 
boy never raised an axe in his life — carrying light- 
wood knots ! He never brought a turn of Avood in 
the house in his life. Taunted by rude school-mates 
for being decently dressed ! My child is worse off 
than my negroes.” 

“Don’t you suppose there are fifty in that school 
who have been brought up as tenderly as your boy 
has ?” 

“No, I do not. They are all poor boys and country 
boys who have been brought up to hard work. I may 
have erred in bringing him up so daintily ; but it is 
done, and he is now unable to bear hard usage.” 

“ Do you reckon General Senator Governor Mathew’s 
grand -children are poor boys? — that the Honorable 
Peter Early’s brother is a poor boy? — that Senator 
Meriwether’s son is a poor boy ?~that Senator Bibb’s 
brothers-in-law are poor boys?— that Judge Tait’s son 
is a poor boy ? Is young Hay a poor boy ?” 

“ How do you know that all these men have sons 
there ?” 


134 


MA8TER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


^^1 learned it from a digger man than any of them, 
who is kin to them, and knows all about them, and 
their sons.’^ 

Well, I suppose all their sons were raised in the 
country and raised to work.^^ 

^^Do you suppose that Senator Governor Milledge’s 
nephew was raised in the country and to work ? That 
William J. Hobby’s son was raised in the country, 
and to work? — that Doctor Eamsay’s son was raised 
in the country { n 1 to work ? It is high time your 
dainty, cake-fed boy was set to work, if you expect 
him to live out half his days. And when a better 
time than now ? or where a better place than among 
his school-mates of rank, who all work ?” 

^^He is under your control, brother,” said Mrs. 
Mitten, burying her face in her handkerchief; ^^but 
surely, surely, he is the most unfortunate child that 
ever was born.” 

^^Yes, he is one of the most unfortunate children 
ever born, in having a mother whose sympathy for his 
body makes her forget the interest of his soul — who to 
save his hide, will ruin his head — However, what’s 
the use of talking to a woman.” 

‘‘Husband,” said Mrs. Thompson, “you don’t 
know how to make the proper allowances for a 
mother’s love. I’ve told you so a hundred times. 
That is your greatest fault — almost your oi^y fault — 
that, and refusing your children little innocent indul. 
gencies that every other father allows to his children. 
I have been mortified to death to see my children along 
side of their cousins. Because men have no feelings 
themselves, they think women have none — or ought to 
have none — ” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


135 


“Ph-e-e-e-ew ! wliat a gust! what did you come 
over for, Mrs. Bildadf’ 

came over to comfort sister Anna, who has most 
as much to bear as Job had.^^ 

“I don’t thiuk Sarah suffers much by comparison 
with Ann and Jane— at least if you’d look at one of 
Sanford’s bills you’d think she ought not to.” 

^^Well, I manage to keep her a little decent by 
enduring a month’s grumbling at the end of every 
year 5 but compare George and William will you. 
Till last year and the year before, when did he ever 
have a new coat — a decent one — to his back? I’ve 
been cutting down your old coats and pants for him 

ever since he was born ” 

^^He must have gone into pants early.” 

That’s very witty, I confess; but you know that 
every word I say is true. What pleasure it can be to 
any one to be always mortifying and .cowing their 
children, I can’t conceive. You’re always talking 
about making boys worTcj worTc, and giving ’em fine 
constitutions, and George has done no more work than 
William has, and his constitution’s no better. Now, 
husband, what will the world say to see you sending off 
your sister’s child into slavery, and keeping your own 
son at home, with all the comforts of life about him ?” 

I thought he was in a dreadful pickle at home.” 
“Well, so far as his feelings — his sensibilities are 
concerned he is; but he’s not a mean-fed, mean- 
clothed, ridiculed slave; he’s not tumbled down on a 
hard mattress, on the bare floor, in a negro house, 
this pinching, freezing weather. I wouldn’t expose 
George to such hardships and insults, if he never got 
an education during ash and oak.” 


136 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


I think that very likely.’^ 

Surely, upon the face of the whole earth there can 
be found some school as good as old WaddePs where 
boys can be taught without being made niggers oV^ 

^^Mr. Waddel is not old, i^recious j and it would 
distress him mightily if he knew that you didn’t like 
h's school.” 

I don’t care whether he’s old or young, nor what 
he likes or dislikes. One thing is certain, and that is 
that George never goes to him with my consent.”. 

Well, come darling, let’s go home ! you have com- 
forted Anna more in a few minutes than I could have 
done in a month ; for you have dried up her tears and 
actually drawn two or three smiles from her. My pur- 
pose is fully answered. Old as I am, I never knew 
how to comfort women before.” 

Brother, I thought you said Willington was a vil- 
lage !” t 

‘^So it is, but nobody lives in it but students and 
one tavern-keeper.’’ 

sent my letter there.” 

^AVell, maybe it will go there. You should have 
sent it to Vienna. Come, sweetest, let’s be going !” 

“Go on, sweetest j and I’ll come when I’m ready.”* 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


137 


CHAPTEE XI. 

Few men living, have a higher respect for the 
^ ^American fair ” than we have. We regard them a» 
a thousand times better than men, and do not feel that 
we pay them a very extravagant compliment at that. 
Xor are we blind to the virtues of the men. There are 
many splendid specimens of humanity among them f 
but, as a class they do not equal the other sex in any- 
thing, that tends to ennoble the human race. As good 
as women are, they would be better still, if it were 
not for the men ; and yet, with this confession on our 
lips, we are constrained to say that after all, woman 
is a very curious thing. In proof of this assertion^ 
^4et facts be submitted to a candid world !” 

The reader has seen with what spirit and dignity Mrs. 
Thompson reduced her husband to order as soon as he 
began to cast reflections upon women generally — how 
he opened a whole volume of family secrets, that the 
world would have never known but for his over-lati- 
tudinarian outgivings — with what independence she 
spoke of ^^old Waddel,” and his ‘4ikes and dis- 
likes’’ — how sweetly she dismissed her husband — and 
how his sister was comforted by all these things. Xow, 
after the Captain had retired, and the two ladies were 
left alone, what think y^u, gentle reader, was the 
strain in which she continued to her husband’s sister? 
Why, of course : Sister, you are too patient — too 

weak — too submissive. Be independent. If we don’t 
show some spirit men will make slaves of us. Eesume 
your authority over your child, and take him away 
from that horrible monster, old Waddel, and his one 
hundred and fifty white slaves.” You are mistaken^ 


138 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


kind reader. After a pause, long enougli to let trLe 
Captain get out of hearing, thus it ran : 

“Sister, that is a sweet letter of Mr. WaddePs. How 
kind it was in him to write so soon. However severe 
he may be, my life on it, he is a kind man at heart, 
and takes great pleasure in seeing the advancement of 
his scholars. It is very hard for a child raised as 
William has been, to be exposed to such rough usage j 
but, after all it may turn out for the best. Every day 
that I live I become more and more satisfied, that after 
a certain age boys should be subjected entirely to a 
father^ s government. As you knew, husband and I 
have had many disputes about the proper management 
of George, and I have always found that in the end he 
was right and I was wrong. We are too apt to let our 
love get the better of our judgment in the management 
of our children, especially our sons. I reckon it is a 
wise arrangement of Providence, that men should not 
have much love and sympathy — that is, as much as 
we have— that they may not be led off by their affec- 
tions into too much indulgence. So much better satis- 
fied am I with David’s judgment, than I am with 
mine, in ruling boys, that I don’t pretend to oppose 
him in anything concerning them, except in the little 
matter of dress ; and besides you know him well 
enough to know that when h^ once sets his head upon 
a thing, and puts his foot down, you’d just as well 
undertake to turn over the court house with your little 
finger, as to move him. Now, I see he has made up 
his mind to keep William at Waddel’s, and nowhere 
but Waddel’s, and he is more bent upon it, because he 
wants him to contend with those — what was that 


MASTER WILLIAM 3IITTEN. 139 

biggest man of all, that told him so much about Goy- 
ernors, and Senators, and Judges, and all that 
Gilmer?” 

never heard of him ; did, you?” 

^^hTo.” 

^^Well, it^s very strange that we never heard of 
him — we’ve heard of all the rest of them. But as I 
was saying : David thinks there never was such a boy 
born for mind as William. I tell him I think George 
has quite as good a mind as William — ^not such a 
sprightly mind, but more solid. Don’t you think so, 
sister ?” 

George is a sweet, good boy, sister; a boy to be 
proud of, and of fine mind. I’ve no doubt but that 
he will make a more solid, practical, useful man than 
William ; but ” 

“Well, I’ve told my husband so ; but he says as for 
talent, for genuine, native talent, George won’t do to be 
named in the same year with William. And that’s 
another very strange thing in men ; have you never 
noticed it? They always think everybody else’ s chil- 
dren smarter and better than their own. What was I 
saying? Oh— David’s head is set upon showing off 
William to those great folks, in that large school, and 
have his way he will ; so I think, my dear Anna, you’d 
best try to reconcile yourself to it. Don’t let it dis- 
tress you. Surely, if other people’s children, raised 
as tenderly as he has been, can live through it, he 
can.” 

“Oh, I could bear it all with becoming fortitude 
my dear sister, if I could be sure that William would 
live through it — that his constitution would not be 
undermined by it. But the change is so sudden — in 


140 


'MASTER WILL1A3I MITTEN. 


everything ! If he lives through it, his spirit will 
he broken down— he will be cowed— his ambition be 
stifled. I know William’s disposition better than any- 
body else in the world knows it. He can be led by 
kindness, stimulated by praise, and won by words, 
but he cannot bear harshness, censure, and, least of 
all, chastisement. Now, is it not strange, my dear 
Mary — is it not, unaccountable, that of all the schools 
in the world that is the one my poor child should be 
doomed to at last ? When, and where, will his mis- 
fortunes end? And now, what shall I do ? What am 
I to do ? I have given my child up to brother David’s 
control ; and I know his inflexibility where he thinks 
he is right. There is one thing I know, and but one 
thing, that will overcome him, and that is my grief ; 
but I do not wish to afflict him with my anguish of 
heart. What trouble have I given him ! What 
brotherly kindness has he shown me ! How prophetic 
has been his forecast ! How proud he is of my son ! 
How rejoiced when he does well ! It is cruel in me to 
pain him. And yet, when I think of my poor boy, 
how can I help it? Yes, I will, sister Mary — I will 
strive to suppress my feelings ; at least, to hide them 
from brother David. I am greatly delighted with Mr. 
Waddel’s letter. I am sure he is not the cruel, merci- 
less man he has been represented to be.” 

“Well that is right, sister Anna. You be happy, 
and husband will be happy, and I will be happy, and 
well all be happy. At least hope for the best, till you 
hear from William. It will be time enough to grieve 
when you hear that William is unhappy.” With 
these words, and two emphatic kisses, moistened with 
the tears of both, the sisters parted. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


141 


Kow, we could memoralize as long, and quite as 
profitably, upon the character of Mrs. Thompson, as 
Dichens does upon the characters which he dreams 
out j but as we detest the repeated interruptions of a 
story by long dry homilies from the author, we will 
take it for granted that when we faithfully delineate a 
character, the reader can draw his lessons of morality 
from it as well as we can ; but as it would be doing 
great injustice to the character of Mrs. Thompson to 
rest it with the reader upon an occasional interview 
with her nearest and dearest friends, we are sure that 
we will be indulged in a word explanatory of her 
seeming inconsistency in the conversations just 
detailed. 

After long and careful observation of human nature^ 
in all its phases, we are strongly impressed with the 
idea that there are many women in the world — good 
women, sensible women, good wives, and good moth- 
ers, who are a little impulsive — ^liable, under very 
trying circumstances, such as masculine wit at feminine 
expense, he slurs at she sense, man’s snuffing at woman’s 
loving, and the like, to become slightly excited j and 
then, as they feel themselves called upon to extempo- 
rize without a moment’s preparation, or a moment’s 
pause, they, of course, do not deliver themselves with 
a due regard to logical precision, or methodical 
arrangement. Constrained in their hurry to snatch up 
any implement of warfare that presents itself, they 
have no time to consider its fitness, or unfitness, for 
the contest ; consequently, they sometimes seize a 
battle-axe, with handle so long, that while the blade 
hits the enemy, the handle knocks down two or three 
friends at the same time. They send off a petard so 


142 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


maladroitly; that, while it only singes the foe, it blows 
up whole platoons of allies. It should be remembered, 
likewise, that they fight only ^ Ho restore the equili- 
brium — never for permanent conquest. It would be 
very strange, therefore, if, under these circumstances, 
they did not at times seem inconsistent in their words 
and ways. Now, Mrs. Thompson was one of this class, 
and one of the very best of this class. While upon 
this head, let me disabuse the reader’s mind of another 
false impression that he may, perchance, receive from 
the scene of consolations which he has just witnessed. 
He may suppose from the Captain’s sudden change of 
note, as soon as his wife took up the soothing harpsi- 
chord, that, except in the matter of George, and upon 
a few very rare occasions, when ^^he put his foot 
down,’’ he was under pretty rigid petticoat govern, 
ment. Hot so. Foot down, or foot up, whenever a 
material issue occurred between the heads of the 
family, his judgment was final and conclusive ; but in 
matters of minor import both acted independently. 

The jurisdictions of each were early defined after 
the marriage ; to the madam was assigned the house, 
the kitchen, the smoke house, and the garden, in abso- 
lute sovereignty j to himself, all other interests were 
accorded. After children were born to them, all fell 
under her jurisdiction up to the age of six ; then, the 
Captain assumed a little authority over the males, up 
to ten, when he reversed the order of things, he becom- 
ing principal and she secondary. As to the females, 
he claimed no privileges, but the very humble ones of 
grunting and turning up his nose occasionally at their 
flounces, and of grumbling annually {vide supra) at 
their store bills. Small as these things were, they 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


143 


were unconstitutional encroachments, for which he 
received the due retributions, to which he submitted 
with no other signs of impatience than perpetrating a 
joke, or a witticism, in the midst of them, always 
under the pain of double punishment — ^yes, he was 
guilty at times of other encroachments in the way of 
certain significant Humphs T pale coffee, undone 
biscuits, burnt meat, and the like, at meals ; to which 
she responded in the following apologetic terms : 

When your negroes cease to he masters and mistresses 
of the family, mayhe youHl get something fit to eaV^ To 
which, at the earliest convenient opportunity, she 
added an amendment, in manner and form, following, 
to-wit : 

1 suppose you (little Sueky) think that because the 
grown niggers are allowed to run over me, and do as they 
please, you can do so too; hut Ell teach you better Miss. 
I can manage you, myself. Miss Empress Catherine 
Meaning, thereby, that the aforesaid David Thompson 
had been guilty of crassa negligentia^ and divers non- 
feasances, to the great detriment of the said Mary, and 
highly unbecoming the Chief Executive officer of the 
Thompsonian Government. By means whereof the 
most insignificant subjects of said Government had 
come to regard themselves Emperors and Empresses, 
and to deport themselves to the said Mary accordingly. 

To these impeachments, the Captain filed no plea j 
“sometimes pretending’^ that he was too deaf, and at 
others too busy to hear them. 

Hot did the madam always keep within her legiti- 
mate domain. She would, with malice aforethought, 
stop a plow to send Sarah to a quilting, and then, the 
Captain’s foot would come down in earnest, and he’d 


144 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


^‘wonder whether there was a woman in the world 
that wouldn’ t lose a crop to give her daughter a sugar- 
tit All which, and much more like it, Mrs. ThomiJ- 
son bore with lamb-like meekness, and speechless sub- 
mission, her eyes looking out meantime as though she 
was contemplating evening clouds. The equilibrium 
was beautifully preserved in the Captain’s family. 

From all this, it appears that Thompson was no 
farther under petticoat government than all husbands 
are, and all good husbands ought to be. He was a 
very happy man in his family, and his wife was as 
happy as he was. 

Before his wife returned from the visit of consola- 
tion, the Captain had finished a short letter to Wil- 
liam, reporting Doctor Waddel’s opinion of him, the 
gratification it afforded his mother in particular, and 
his connections in general — urging him not to disap- 
point the high expectations which had been raised of 
him — to be studious — not to mind the taunts of the 
boys about his fine clothes — to wear them out as quick 
as possible with lightwood knots, and get plain, coarse 
ones. ^^Let the boys see,” said the Captain, “that if 
you do not know how to work, you can soon learn. 
Beat them in everything. Beat them in learning, in 
working, in running, in jumping, in wrestling, in ath- 
letic sports of every kind. That is the way to make 
them respect you.” We must not let the reader sup 
pose that the Captain omitted the important matter of 
diet, though he expressed himself upon it in very 
coarse terms — withal, they are characteristic ; “Don’t 
let your head be always running upon what is to go 
into your paunch.” 

The Captain was just folding his letter, when his 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 145 

wife returned. Mary,” said he, “and how 

did Anna seem when yon left her 

“Why, poor dear soul, it’s enough to make one’s 
heart bleed to see her. She does try her very best to 
become reconciled to William’s lot, but it seems impos- 
sible. If you could have heard her when she talked 
about your kindness to her, and how it increased her 
griefs to know how they afflicted you, it would have 
filled your eyes with tears. Do, my dear husband, be 
as kind and tender to her as you can. She says that 
she will strive to overcome her feelings for your 
sake ” 

“Well, that is all I can expect o£»*her,” said the 
Captain, with suffused eyes — “visit her every day, 
Mary, and keep her as much as possible from brooding 
over William’s fate. See if you can’t persuade her to 
take a trip , of a month or two from home, as soon as 
the weather breaks — I must away to the post-office.” 

CHAPTEE XII. 

At the very time when Doctor Waddel was penning 
his letter to Captain Thompson, teeming with compli- 
ments to William Mitten, the same William Mitten 
was writing another to his mother teeming with phil- 
lippics against Doctor Waddel 5 but as good luck would 
have it William’s letter was about a month in reaching 
his mother. This may seem strange to the reader of 
the present day, when communications pass between 
Xew York and Xew Orleans in a few minutes and 
letters pass between them by the due course of mail in 
five or six days. But the matter is easily explained* 
In the good old days of President Jefferson, people 
were not as much like the Athenians as they are now — 
J 


146 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


that is, so greedy of news that they could think of 
nothing else ; and had they been, they would have 
deemed it utterly impracticable to send a letter by 
public conveyance over sixty miles, in less than two 
days, excluding stoppages. And if Dogfight post- 
office lay on the way, and rain fell between times, the 
post-boy was commended if he came up to schedule 
time. But if Dogfight and Possum-town post-offices 
both lay on the way, and a storm intervened, three 
days to sixty miles was considered but a scant allow- 
ance. No mails were carried in Georgia by vehicles, 
but the mails between Augusta and Savannah ; none 
in South Caroliila, we believe, but between Charleston 
and Columbia. All others were horse mails, commonly 
in charge of boys under nineteen years of age. These 
took their rest at night, and took shelter from rain in 
the day, as their health required. The vehicles called 
stages carried passengers as well as mails They, too, 
stopt for the night, and well for the passengers that 
they did ; for Waddel’s shaking of Brace was a com- 
fort compared to the shaking and bouncing of passen- 
gers in these vehicles, when going over rooty, rutty, 
and stony ground. 

The facetious Oliver H. Prince, who was toothless 
in front, upon being asked how he lost his teeth, 
replied, that they were jolted out by traveling over 
Georgia roads in a stick sulky. If this were true^ 
teeth must have been scarce among the stage passen- 
gers between Augusta and Savannah, sandy as the 
road was for the most part.* 

*Post Coaches were introduced in South Carolina and Georgia by Eleazer 
Early, in 1825, we think ; and we know that the first passengers in one of 
them were General Thomas Glascock, Major Freeman Walker, and the 
writer, of Georgia, and Colonel Christian Breithaupt, of South Carolina. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


147 


Besides the tardiness of the mails, there was another 
more serious obstacle to ready communication between 
the students and their parents at a distance. The 
nearest x)ost-office to Willington Avas, as we have inti- 
mated, at Vienna, six miles from the Academy ; and 
in all Willington proper or common there was but one 
horse that could always be had for hire, and that was 
Southerland’s old Botherem. Vow, for a student to 
wait the rcA^olution of fifty or sixty Saturdays before 
his turn to hire old Botherem rolled round, would have 
been distressingly dilatory. Withal, to hire him just 
to mail a letter, was rather fatiguing to the finances 
of the youth of this institution, which were exceed- 
ingly reduced in those days. To walk six miles to 
mail a letter, was out of the question. The only alter- 
native left, and that which was uniA^ersally adopted, 
was to take the chance of a visitor to the village on 
business, or pleasure, and the chance of hearing of his 
intended departure before it occurred, and the chance 
of seeing the Ausitor ad interim^ and the chance of his 
being willing to bear the letter, and the chance of his 
not forgetting to mail it after he took charge of it. It 
might be, therefore, especially with a new comer to- 
the school, several weeks before all these contingencies 
would result favorably to the writer, and so it was 
with William. His letter to his mother made his fare 
even worse than it was, by a total omission of wheat 
biscuit at least once in three weeks, and sometimes, 
oftener, and butter ^^semi-occasionally,” and fresh 
pork for middling, eA^ery now and then ; chicken pie 
twice or thrice a yearj and turkey as often as old 
Ma-uer'^ could kill a wild one, which happened about 


Bhocmaker and great hunter, who boarded at Newby’s. 


148 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


once in two years ; and venison as often as old Maner 
could kill a deer, which happened once in three years. 
Of course, Master Mitten was not to blame for omit- 
ing all these things, for even biscuit-time had not 
rolled round when he wrote ; but it is due to the kind- 
hearted landlord and landlady, that Mitten’s report 
should receive the just qualifications. After descant- 
ing upon his board and lodging, he proceeded as fol- 
lows : All I ever heard about old Waddel, is true. 

He whips ten times as much as Mr. Markham does, 
and twice as hard, and laughs and chuckles all the 
time he is doing it, like it made his heart glad to cut 
boys’ legs all to pieces. 

Last Monday morning, one boy named Ned Brace 
made him mad, and he caught him by the throat with 
both hands, and lifted him up, and slammed him 
down, and jerked him all about among the boys, till I 
thought he would have killed him ; and I wish he had, 
for he does nothing but torment me every chance he 
gets. Uncle had hardly left here, before he came up 
to me, and asked me how long I thought it would be 
before I would blossom ? I told him I did not know 
what he meant. ^ I mean,’ says he, ^ how long will it 
be before your shirt begins to peep out of your bi’eeches 
and jacket V Then he tells me I am the prettiest boy 
he ever laid his eyes on, and have got the prettiest 
little hands and feet that he ever did see, and that it 
almost makes him cry his eyes out to think that my 
pretty hands will have to touch lightwood knots ; and 
that I never shall do it, for he will get a nice little pair 
of tongs for me to pick up the knots with, and a pretty 
little band-box for me to carry them in. The other 
day he squalled out to me, right before all the boys, 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 149 

^Oh, Bill Mitten, I have found you out, have !“? I 
suspected it as soon as I saw you, but I thought 
nobody would do such a thing. ^ 

“ ^What do you meanV said I. ‘What have I 
done ? ^ 

“ ‘Why,^ says he, ^you have come here in boy’s 
clothes, and you know very well that you are a girl ; 
and I believe you are the very girl that looked so hard 
at me in church last vacation. I knew you loved me, 
but I never thought you would follow me here in that 
plight. What do you expect me to do? Do you 
think I would marry any girl in the world that acts 
that way V 

“Here, I ordered the monitor to set him down for 
making game of me, and telling lies ; and I do hope 
old Waddel will give him twice the choking and 
jerking he gave him last Monday. He is everlastingly 
tormenting me, and setting all the boys to laughing at 
uae. ***** The boys here are the smartest 
boys I ever saw ; and they study the hardest of any 
boys I ever saw j but they do not seem to like me, and, 
therefore, I keep away from them, except a few good 
boys, who are very kind to me. All their amusements are ■ 
running, jumping, wrestling, playing town ball, and 
bull-pen. The big boys hunt squirrels, turkeys, &c., 
of Saturdays, and Opossums and coons of nights. Mr./ 
Waddel does not require them to study at their board- 
ing-houses, though they almost all do it.’^ 

This was true from 1805 to 1808, but about the lat- 
ter period, a shoal of city youths entered the school, 
who abused their privileges so much that they were 
curtailed one by one, until at length the students were 
forbidden the use of fire-arms, were required to retire 


150 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


to rest at nine o’clock p. M., if not engaged in study 
beyond that hour, to consume but fifteen minutes at 
their meals, and to rise with the sun every morning. 
It is a remarkable fa^t, that, with two or three excep- 
tions, no student who entered this school between the 
years 1806 and 1810, from the largest cities of Georgia 
and South Carolina, ever became greatly distinguished, 
while the period including those dates was the most 
fruitful of great men of any of the same length, during 
the whole time of Dr. Wad del’s instructorship.* 
Master Mitten closed his letter with a most earnest 
appeal to his mother ‘ ^ to do all that she could to get 
his uncle to remove him from this school.” She forth- 
with dispatched a messenger to the Captain, who was 
soon at her side. He found her weeping, of course. 
The letter was handed to him, and he commenced read- 
ing it gravely ; but when he reached the complaints 
against l^'ed Brace, he began to laugh, and laughed 
more and more immoderately as he progressed. 

‘^Brotl^r David,” said his sister, ^Vhatdo you find 
in the letter to amuse you so much f ’ 

Why, this odd fish, Ned Brace !” 

‘^It seems to me very strange that you can find 


*We name the following: Wm. D. Martin, Member of Congress, Judge 
Circuit Court, South Carolina ; Eldred Simkins, Member of Congress, South 
Carolina ; James L. Pettigru, Attorney General and District Judge, South 
Carolina ; Andrew Govan, Member of Congress, South Carolina ; Hugh S. 
Lagare, Attorney General of the United States, South Carolina ; George 
McDuffie, Member of Congress and Governor, South Carolina ; Lewis Ward- 
law, Judge Superior Court, South Carolina ; Francis Wardlaw, Chancellor, 
South Carolina ; George R. Gilmer, Member of Congress and Governor of 
Georgia; George Cary, Member of Congress, Georgia; John Walker, Mem- 
ber of Congress, Alabama ; Henry W. Collier, Governor and Chancellor, 
Alabama ; and many others of lower rank. John C. Calhoun and William 
H. Crawford were Waddel’s pupils, of earlier date. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


151 


anytliing laughable in such vulgar^ unprovoked rude- 
ness as he shows to your nephew.’^ 

“Oh, Anna, I wouldn’t mind these little boyish frol- 
ics. There are always some Braces in a school, whom 
the boys soon get used to, and become amused with 
rather than angry with. As soon as Bill blossoms, no 
doubt ]N’ed will let him alone ’’ 

“ Brother David, I shall take it as a great favor if 
you will not obtrude the refined Mr. Brace’s wit on 
my ear, how much soever you may relish it.” 

“Well, now, Anna, you have a great deal of the 
blame of all this to take to yourself. You have 

raised your child in a band-box Oh, come back, 

Anna ! I give you my word and honor I had no allu- 
sion to Brace’s fun. I told you not to rig William out 
in finery for that school ; but you would ; and now he 
is verifying my i)rediction. But do not take such trifles 
so much to heart. William tells you the boys there are 
the smartest and the most studious boys he ever saw j 
and Waddel tells you that he is among the most prom- 
ising of them all. Now, think of these things, and do 
not let the fun or folly of his schoolmates distress you. 
He seems to have a fine protector from Brace, at least, 
in Mr. Waddel. If William does his duty he will soon 
command the respect of all his school -fellows, even of 
Brace himself. As to his leaving that school, it is out 
of the question. There are but two contingencies upon 
which it can be done. His sickness is one, and the 
other I shall keep to myself, for the present, at least.” 

‘ ‘ Did you not say that you left it optional with him 
to board at Mr. Newby’s or elsewhere?” 

“I did, and so he may. By going to another board- 
ing house, he may get rid of Brace of nights and morn- 


152 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


ings, but not of noons. I have no idea that the fare 
is any better at the other houses than it is at i^’ewby’s. 
He is now convenient to the ^Academy/ with pleasant 
room-mates, acquainted with the boarders, his land- 
lord and landlady, and, doubtless, better satisfied upon 
the whole that he will be anywhere else, i^^ow, would 
you iDut him among strangers, with what kind of a 
room-mate you know not, and have him walk from one 
to three miles every night and morning, through Win- 
ter storm and Summer heat, just to have him a little 
better fed than he is, and to remove him from the 
taunts of one waggish boyl” 

Mrs. Mitten pondered over these sayings sadly for a 
time, and then rejoined : • 

‘^i^^ow, brother, you’re always ascribing William’s 
misfortunes to my folly or weakness ; tell me, candidly, 
isn’t it bad luck, and nothing but bad luck, that Mr. 
Waddel’s school happens to fall in the woods 5 that 
William should be compelled to endure such rough 
fare ; and that he should have fallen into the same 
boarding house with that tantalizing Ned Brace f ’ 
‘AVell, as Bill is — that is, as you have made him — 
I don’t know but that his falling in with Brace may be 
considered rather unlucky ; but if he had been raised as^ 
he should have been, he would probably have been able 
to stop Brace’s mouth without appealing to Mr. Waddel. 
But as he is, why doseii’t he give Brace as good as he 
sends ? If Brace ridicules his fine clothes, why dosen’t 
he ridicule Brace’s coarse and dirty ones. If he admires 
Bill’s pretty face, why does not Bill laugh at his 
ugly one ! If he calls Bill a pretty girl, why does not 
Bill call him an ugly wench ! That’s the way to meet 
such larks as Brace j not to play the girl before him^ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


163 


sure enough. As to the fare, I consider that sheer good 
luck. It’s high time that Bill had the cakes, and the 
sugar-plums with which you have been stuffing him 
all his life, purged out of him ” 

Why, brother David! Where did you learn your 
coarse language? Not from your father or mother, I 
know.” 

I learned it from William’s bringing up, the like of 
which you never saw in your mother’s family, I know. 
She taught me, God bless her, to work, to move quick 
at her bidding, to eat just what was set before me — 
and she generally set before me breakfast, as you know, 
a pewter-basin of clabber, and a pone of corn bread, 
a pewter-tumbler of milk or butter milk, and a pew- 
ter-plate of fried apples, ’most floating in sop, with 
three little pieces of clear, curled middling perched 
up on top of them like dried bean-pods. My dinner 
was just the same, with an occasional change of meat 
to squirrel, ’possum, venison, and, very rarely, beef. 
For supper, I had wind and water, and nothing else. 
When I was thirteen or fourteen years old I have no 
doubt I should have considered Newby’s fare perfectly 
luxurious. Certainly, it is quite as good as I was raised 
on.” 

^^You surely don’t think of what you are saying, 
brother. Mother had both china and crockery ware, 
and some silver ware j and she was one of the nicest 
house-keepers and best pastry-cooks in the world.” 

‘^Oh, yes, she had a set of china; I remember it 
well, though I never got but three fair looks at it in 
all my life ; and I remember quite as well having got 
twice throe fair licks, whoii about seven years old, for 
trying to climb up to the upper story of the old buf- 


154 


MASTER WILLIAlf MITTEK 


fet,* to ascertain what those shining things were that 
peeped out of the dark garret every time that mother 
opened the door of the buffet. How many pieces there 
were at this period I do not know ; but I know that 
just seven (counting a cup and saucer as one) survived 
the Eevolution. They came in full view before me when 
three officers of the army stopped at our house for a 
night. The supper I had not the pleasure of seeing, 
as mother invited me over to Uncle John’s to spend 
the evening ; but the 'breakfast was prodigious ! First, 
there was a table cloth spread on the table. This was 
amazing, and I ventured to feel it, at the expense of a 
back-handed lick right here ! (pointing to the back of 
his ear.) Then came forth six crockery plates, laid 
bottom upwards, with knives and forks by their sides, 
which I had never seen before. Then was placed at 
the head of the table a large waiter with something on it 
it covered over with a shining white nax)kin. (Here I got 
lick number two, for x)eeping under the napkin.) There 
was set in the center of the table a pepper-box and a 
salt-sellar, the last after the fashion of a morning-glory 
one the foot of a wine glass. On either side of said salt-, 
sellar, and equi-distant from it — say nine inches — two 
tablespoons of solid silver crossed each other, bowls 


* The buffet, often called the bofal, was a triangular* cupboard, exact-fitted 
to the corner of a room, and extending from the floor to the ceiling. The 
first shelf in it was about two and a-half feet from the bottom, and the 
space was closed by a door, or folding doors, with lock and key. This was 
the depository of the family groceries. Then came another shelf, and 
another, and another, to the top. These were all closed by glass doors, or a 
single door, after the manner of a window-shutter. The first division was 
appropriated to the lighter pewter-ware. The second to the liquors for the 
day, with their needful accompaniments of honey, sometimes sugar, mint, 
bowls, mugs, spoons, and occasionally glass tumblers. The third contained 
the crockery, and the fourth, half concealed by the cornice of the buffet, 
the china and silverware, if any. 


MASTER W1LLIA3I MITTEN. 


155 


downward, and two more lay, the one at father’s plate 
and the other where the fried chicken was to be ; on 
mother’s side of the first brace was placed a little glass 
bucket, like a doctor’s mortar, full of rich yellow but- 
ter, frizzled all over, pine burr fashion, ^^^ow came in 
a plate of beautful biscuit ; then an equally beautiful 
loaf of light-bread ; then a plate of new fashioned corn 
bread, parceled out by the spoonful, and baked in the 
shape that the spoon gave it j then came in a dish of 
nice fried ham — then another of fried chicken, dressed 
off with cream, and flour doings and parsley ; then 
anothm' of broiled chicken, put uj) as now, with wings 
akimbo, and legs booted in its own skin ; then came two 
bowls of boiled eggs, the one hard and the other soft — 
not the bowls, but the eggs. 

All this accomplished, the napkin was removed, and 
oh ! what a sight was there ! A china tea-pot, six cups 
and six saucers, all real china, and all with red pictures 
on them, of things I had never seen, and have never 
since seen ! A proud, dandyish, pot-bellied, narrow- 
necked, big-mouthed, thin-skinned silver cream-i)ot 
strutted out among the china, and turned down its only 
lip at everything it faced, most insultingly. A silver 
sugar-dish, shaped like the half of a small muskmelon, 
stood modestly by the dapper cream-pot. Mother i)icks 
up the little dandy, and turns him bottom upwards, 
to make him disgorge six silver teaspoons that he had 
swallowed. The handles appear, but the bowls stick 
in his throat. She rights him, gives his seat a pat on 
the table, and turns him up again ; but he can’t deliver. 
She therefore picks out of him one spoon at a time, 
and lays it in a saucer by the side of a cup. She now 
orders Silvy to bring in Hhe little 'pitcher of cream.’ 


156 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


The little pitcher appears (pure crockery) with half its 
lip hit olf, and the handle gone, and an ugly crack 
meandering from the upper foot of the handle towards 
the disfigured lii). The little gentleman is carefully 
filledi^rom the pitcher, his mouth is wiped clean, and 
he is set up to make mouths at me till the company 
comes. The ijitcher goes back to the dairy privately. 
Dick is ordered to bring in the coffee, and it appears 
in a large tin coffee-pot. The tea-pot is filled out of it, 
and it is ordered back to the fire in the kitchen. All 
things are now in order, and I am directed to inform 
the company that breakfast is ready. And now, Mrs. 
Anna Mitten, you have had a full display of all the 
crockery, china and silver, that your mother possessed 
from the year 1773 to the year 1787, when the whole 
disappeared with Sister Jane upon her marriage.” 

You surely mistake some things, brother,” said 
Mrs. Mitten, smiling, and, therefore, it is quite likely 
you mistake the amount and kind of mother’s table- 
ware. Mother never let us saunter about the table 
when she was fixing for company. She never sent you 
in your coarse clothing to call American officers to 
breakfast ” 

Just stop there a moment, sister, and I’ll explain 
matters to your entire satisfaction. When mother 
invited me over to uncle’s for the evening, she invited 
me home again at daybreak the next moiiiing. I 
accepted the invitation, and was promi)t to the time, 
knowing that ladies always get in a pucker when fix- 
ing up for company, especially for ‘ the Quality,^ and 
that it would have been very undutiful in me to add a 
scruiDle’s weight to mother’s disturbance of mind ui^on 
such occasions. I know 1 should have reflected upon it 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


157 


with pairiy. as soon as the company retired. ^Go,’ said 
mother, on meeting me, ‘ to the spring, and fetch a 
keeler of water, and take it up the loft, and wash and 
dress yourself, and come down to my room j you will 
find your clean clothes on the bag of dried apples.’ I 
did as I was bidden, and came down in my Sunday 
suit, and walked into mother’s room. She ran her 
eyes over me, pulled up my breeches, pulled down my 
jacket, spread out my shirt collar, looked for dirt on 
my neck and behind my ears, didn’t find any, clasped 
my shoes a little tighter, combed my head, powdered 
it, and bade me take my seat in the dining room. All 
this was done, doubtless, that I might have it to say, 
in after times, that I had seen General Greene, Colonel 
Washington and Colonel Williams 5 that they had sup- 
ped and slept, and breakfasted, at my father’s house ; 
and (perchance) that I had actually spoken to them, and 
been spoken to by them. It may be, too, that the good 
lady, finding me getting a little boorish, was disposed to 
give me some knowledge of nice entertainments and 
genteel society. If my improvement was her object— if 
she designed to inspire me with military ardor, she 
missed it. When the officers first took their seats at the 
table, I was deeply interested in their looks and conver- 
sation 5 but when I saw all the luxuries of the table 
going under their voracious appetites with a perfect 
rush, alarm entirely suffocated admiration. The van- 
ishing ham, I didn’t care so much about j but as piece 
after piece of chicken disappeared, and egg after egg, 
and biscuit after biscuit, till all were gone but two 
chicken necks, one hard egg, two slices of ham and 
three-quarters of the loaf of bread, I became perfectly 
furious, and a Tory outright j and I said to myself, Gf 


158 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


tliese are the sort of fellows who are fighting for our 
liberties, I wish that Cornwallis and Tarleton (they 
talked mostly of them) would catch and hang every 
rascal of them.’ 

The same breakfast set was paraded again, near the 
same time, when Colonel Lee supped with us, and never 
again until Jane’s marriage. And now, sister, raised 
as we have been, where did you get your refinement in 
love and maternal indulgence from f’ 

‘^In your zeal to display all mother’s crockery, you 
put one plate too many on the table, brother.” 

^‘No, I didn’t ; Uncle John was expected to break- 
fast, and i^revented from coming by a shaking ague that 
very morning,” 

Mrs. Mitten had her tears turned to smiles, at least 
by the Captain’s account of ^^the old folks at home,” 
and this was more than he hoped for, after reading 
'William’s letter. He begged his sister to give William 
no encouragement to hoj^e for a removal from Waddel’s^ 
promised to write to him himself, and left her. 

CHAPTEE XIII. 

Captain Thompson’s design was to keep his nephew 
at Doctor Waddel’s school long enough to wean him 
from his old associates, and his old habits, to put at 
least seventeen years upon his head before he entered 
College, to prepare him so thoroughly for the Sopho- 
more class, that he might enter it with credit, and in 
the meantime to give him the strength and vigor of con- 
stitution that would sustain him through any amount of 
mental labor that he might find it necessary to underga 
in order to stand at the head of his classes in Col- 


MASTER WILTAAM MITTEN 


159 


lege. All tills was as well planned as could be. Col- 
lege is no place for a youth given to bad habits. It 
sometimes happens that religion finds such an one 
there, and reforms him ; but it much oftener happens 
that he makes shipwreck of the religion of all his 
College companions who associate with him. Nor 
should a youth be sent to College until he has acquired 
some little stability of character and self-control ; ahd 
seventeen is the earliest age at which these can be 
hoped for in youths generally. Well for them if even 
at that age they have the moral firmness needful to 
resist the temptations to vice, which are found in aU 
Colleges. One of the best securities against these 
temptations is a high reputation for talents and schol- 
arship, acquired immediately on .entering College. 
Students will commonly struggle harder to maintain 
than to gain a high position in their classes. 

But to the success of Captain Thompson’s plans, it 
was indispensable that William Mitten should become 
reconciled to this school ; otherwise he would keep his 
mother in such a state of mental excitement that her 
health must soon give way under it, when no alterna- 
tive would be left him but to save the life of the mother 
by indulgence of the son. He flattered himself that 
time would reconcile William to the school, and the 
sooner, when he saw all hope of leaving it cut off. 
He knew that the worst must soon be told, and he suj)- 
posed that if he could carry his sister safely through 
the successive developments of the first month or two, 
his ultimate designs would be accomplished. His 
policy was, therefore, to lighten the first shock of each 
unpleasant discovery by diverting her mind from it 
with something amusing, flattering, or harmlessly 


160 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


controversial. The critical reader will have learned 
his tactics from what has been recorded specially 
in the last Chapter. Having allayed the mother’s 
anxieties for a moment at least, he turned to the son, 
and addressed to him a letter, in which, with much 
good advice, he administered to him a stern rebuke 
for afflicting his mother with his complaints. ' Are 
you,’’ said he, “so inhuman, so brutish, as to try to 
win me over to your wishes through your mother’s 
tortures ? Are you not well enough acquainted with 
her to know that she never forfeits her word — that she 
would sooner die, now, than reclaim you from me 
until your education is completed? Why, then, do 
you croak to her ? Why do you not make your wants 
and discontents known to me? I am the only one that 
can appease them. 

“ And you are grumbling about your fare already ! 
Why, I carried cakes and sugar things enough with 
you to last you one week surely ; and pray get 
unstuffed of them before you begin to grumble about 
your next cramming. If you had seen your father 
and me when we were of your age, gulping down ash- 
pone and cracklings, you would, for the honor of the 
stock, at least, keep your daintiness to yourself. I 
don’t know what Newby gives you to eat, but I have 
no doubt it would have been a feast to us in our day. 
What apology have you for grumbling at your diet, 
when you have the privilege of boarding where you 
please? If you don’t like Newby’s, go somewhere else. 
What better are you than the hundrM and fifty boys 
around you ? This much you may take for settled, that 
I nevet' will take you away from Mr. WaddeVs just to 
accommodate your belly. So quit your grunting about 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


161 


what you are to eat ; and if you must grunt, grunt to 
me, and not to your mother. 

And what does it signify to you who or how ‘ old 
Waddel,^ as you call him, whips, so long as he does not 
whip you. ^ Old Waddel P That is a pretty way for 
such a chap as you are to speak of a man of Mr. Wad- 
del’ s age and rank, now is it not? Pray, Master Mitten 
where did you learn your manners ? From ‘ Uncle TwaP 
or Uncle Sot f In the parlor, or in the kitchen? Now 
mark me, young man ! the next time you write that 
name in that way to your mother, or me, I will cut it 
out and send it to Mr. Waddel, and ask him whether 
he allows his pupils to speak of him after this manner. 
I lose all patience, when I think that at the very time 
when you were speaking thus rudely of him, he was 
penning a letter filled with the most flattering compli- 
ments to you ” 

While the Captain was thus writing to his nephew, 
Mrs. Mitten was busily engaged devising means to 
raise ' her son above want and ridicule. She ^resolved 
that William never should ^‘blossom,” and that in 
this matter, at least, she would disappoint Mr. Brace. 
Accordingly she set to work with all dispatch to make 
him up two new suits ; and that they might not attract 
attention from their fineness, she chose for them the 
coarsest material that her heart would consent to 
William’s wearing. Let my son,” sighed she, look 
like alhegro, rather than suffer worse than oneV She 
taxed ner mind to find some decent substitute for a 
shirt, but failing here, she made him up three cotton 
shirts of Mrs. Thurlow’s spinning and weaving — that 
is to say — of the best quality of home manufacture. 
To these she added three pairs of stockings of Mrs. 

K 


162 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


1 


Figg’s knitting. All these, with three blankets and 
two pairs of cotton sheets, were packed in one box, but 
as they did not quite fill it, she slipped into it one 
tumbler of plum jelly, and one of raspberry jam. 
These being nicely surrounded and covered with cot- 
ton, the box was closed. Another was replenished 
with biscuit, crackers, cheese, tongue, sliced ham, 
sausages, etc., etc., to a large extent ; and this, too, 
like the other, was closed rather carelessly. The 
whole process was kept a profound secret from the 
Captain, and, indeed, frqm everybody else, but Tom, 
upon whom secrecy was strictly enjoined. As there was 
no hope of meeting with a convenient opportunity of 
sending these cumbrous stores to William by one going 
to Willington, Mrs. Mitten determined to forward them 
without delay per cart, in charge of her most intelligent 
and trusty servant. The reader immediately conjectures 
who this servant was. But a very ugly difficulty lay 
between the plan and its execution. Tom did not 
know the first mile of the way to Willington, and to 
get directions from the Captain was just to blow the 
whole project sky high. Mrs. Mitten took the rounds 
of the stores, therefore, in quest of the desired infor- 
mation. But few of the merchants or citizens of whom 
she made inquiry had ever heard of Willington ; and, 
when she told them that Willington was the place 
where Mr. Waddel kept his school, they looked at her 
as if doubting whether she was in her right mind, for 
everybody knew that her son was at Mr. WaddePs 
school, and that her brother had carried him there. 
All were too polite, however, to ask explanations of 
her. From Mr. West she got a little light. He t&ld 
her that when her brother went off with William, he 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


163 


met them near Mr. Ellison’s, on the Washington road. 
This was enough to start by, at least, and she knew 
that Mr. Smith’s was the first stage, but she was well 
aware that it would never do to dispatch Tom uiDon this 
information alone. She was constrained, therefore, to 
resort to her brother at last. She went over to his 
house early in the afternoon, and found that he had 
gone to his farm. She awaited his return, and in the 
meantime made a confident of Mrs. Thomj)son, and 
bespoke her assistance in extracting from her husband 
such directions as would guide Tom surely and 
speedily to W illington. The Captain reached home j ust 
at supper time. His sister greeted him with a radi- 
ance of countenance and gaiety of manner that really 
transported him. 

^^Oh, my dear sis,” said he, ^‘how happy lam to 
see you so cheerful — so much like your own dear, sweet 
former self ! What good news have you heard f’ 
^‘Hone, brother. My cheerfulness is not altogether 
real ; but I hope it soon will be so ; and perhaps the 
best way to make it so is to assume it when I can. ’’ 

So went the conversation as they went to the table. 
When seated, Mrs. Mitten actually began a playful 
conversation with Mrs. Thompson by inquiring whether 
she had heard lately of David Eamsay, son of Div 
Eamsay, the Historian, &c., &c., &c.” 

said Mary, don’t think he’ll ever say 
^Ramsay ’ to me again as long as he lives.” 

The Captain roared and all laughed. 

^^Well, Moll,” said he, ^4f I could always see you 
and sis in such fine spirits, I believe I should be the 
happiest man living.” 

Well husband,” said Mary, ^^we ought both of us 


164 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


always to be in fine spirits, for after all your teasing 
and willfulness, I don’t think any woman ever had a 
better husband than I have, or a better brother than 
Anna has.” 

can say ^ amen^ to that with all my heart,” said 
Anna. 

^^Well, done ladies !” cried the Captain, pretend- 
ing to take it all as a joke, ‘^what project have you 
now on foot ? Where are the girls going % How many 
horses will they want, and for how long ? How much 
money will it take to rig them out, and bear their 
expenses. It can’t be that either of the girls are going to 
get married ; the oldest is a little too young for that.” 

Nothing of the kind, husband; nothing of the 
kind It just came in the way, and I spoke out the 
honest sentiments of my heart.” 

And so did I, brother, I assure you.” 

Well, ladies, I can only say that I wish from the 
very bottom of my heart, that all this would ^just 
come in the way ’ every day. It would make me the 
happiest man in the United States, I’m sure.” 

“Brother, have you answered William’s letter?” 

“Ob, yes, long ago,” said the Captain, looking as 
if he thought something was about to “come in the 
way” that was not quite so comfortable. 

^ “Husband, how far is it to Mr. Waddel s ?” 

About sixty miles — maybe a little under or over.” 

“ Which way do you go to get there, brother ?” 

“I went the Barkesdale Ferry Road, because it is a 
little nearer than the upper road by Lisbon, Peters- 
burg and Vienna. Look here, good women, what do 
all these questions mean ? Anna, you surely have no 
notion of going to Mr. Waddel’s have you?” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 165 

Oh, no, not the most distant idea of it — at least 
till the weather becomes milder.’’ 

^‘You’re not going to send for William to come 
home, surely !” 

“No, no, my dear brother, no. Did you ever know 
me to violate my word? And if I were disposed to do 
it, do you suppose that I would do it stealthily?” 

“ That would be quite out of character with you, 
sister, I confess. But there is something so strange in 
this catechising from you and Mary, and it goes on 
with such quizzical looks between you, right upon the 
heel of a loving fit, that I am constrained to think that 
there is something in the wind that I am not to be 
suffered to understand.” 

“How do you know husband, but that we are 
paying you back in your own coin ? It is fine sport 
for you to trifle with our curiosity.” 

“ I should expect such pay from you^ but not from 
Anna.^^ 

“Well, sister Mary, as we can’t please him either 
by being serious or ijleasant, suppose we go over to my 
house for the remainder of the evening.” 

“Oh, no, my dear wife, and my dear sister, don’t 
go away and leave me while you are in such a pleasant 
mood. I have not had such a refreshing, for two 
years. Stay, and you may ask me as many questions 
as you please, and I will answer them with pleasure.” 

“Stay a moment, Anna, and let’s try him,” said 
Mrs. Thompson. “What is the given name of the 
Smith whom you stayed with the first night?” 

“John.” 

“How far does he live this side of Washington ?” 

“ About three miles — perhaps a little less.” ! 


166 


MASTER WILLIAM IIITTEN. 


After you pass tlirougli \Yasliington, wliat is the 
next town that you come to ?” 

^^1^0 town. But there are two places that bear the 
names of towns — or names Avhich a traveler would take 
for the names of towns, though there are not six houses 
in both of them x)ut together ; the first is Eehoboth, 
and the second is Goshen.” 

Well, you have said your lesson so well that we 
will not examine you any more to-night. And now, 
sister Anna, he has been such a good boy that I think 
you ought to sit down and spend the evening with 
him.” 

would with all my heart, sister, if I could, but 
business that must be attended to-night, calls me 
home. Eemember, I have been here nearly all the 
afternoon. 

^AYell, if you must go, Fll go with you.” 

What in the mischief can these women be after 
mused the Captain as they left the house. If Waddel 
was a widower, and didn’t whip so joyfully, I should 
think that Anna was going over to lay siege to his 
heart.” The Captain being fatigued, retired early to 
rest. 

As soon as the ladies entered the house, Tom was 
summoned. 

“Tom,” said Mrs. Mitten, I want you to take old 
Ball and the cart, and carry those boxes to your Mas’ 
William. He is going to school to Mr. Waddel, in 
Willington, over in South Carolina — is Ball shod?” 

“Yes, ma’am, new shod, day before yesterday.” 

“I want you to start at the peep of day in the 
morning. And now listen well to what I’m going to 
tell you. You take the Washington road, the road by 


MA8TER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


167 


Mr. Ellison’s, and keep it till you come to Mr. John 
Smith’s. He lives only two or three miles this side of 
Washington. There yon will stop for the night, no 
matter what time yon get there. The next morning, 
make an early start, and when you get to Washington, 

enquire for Eehoboth ” 

“ Stop Mis’ ess — call that name ’gin !” 

Behoboth — Ee-ho-both.” 

got him !” said Tom, with one ear up and the 
other down, his eyes looking on the ground six feet 
off, and listening most vigorously. 

When you get to Eehoboth, enquire for Goshen, 
and when you get to Goshen, enquire for Barkesdale’s 
ferry ; and when you get to Barkesdale’s ferry, enquire 
for WllliDgton, or Mr. Waddel’s either; and when 
you get to Willington, ask for Mr. Newby’s, where 
you will find William— I believe that’s all right, isn’t 
it, Mary?” 

Exactly.” 

Here is your pass, Tom, in which I have stated 
where you are going, and for what. If you get out of 
the way, show that to any one you meet, and he will 
set you right. And here are ten dollars ; take five to 
bear your expenses, and give the other five, with this 
letter, to William. Now, do be particular Tom, for if 
anything goes wrong, we shall never hear the last of 
it. I want you to get back before brother David finds 
out that you have ever been.” 

^^I’ll go it, Mis’ess, like a streak o’ lightnin’.” 

Mrs. Thompson returned home and slipped into bed. 
without waking her husband. The nex-t morning he 
watched her very closely, but could discover nothing 
* unusual in her conduct or conversation. After break- 


168 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


fast, he re-visited his farm, and returned to dinner. 
Having dined, he sauntered down to the business part 
of the town, where he joined a group of gentlemen in 
front of Mr. West’s store. They gave him a somewhat 
distant salutation, and eyed him with rather a solemn 
interest, saying nothing. 

“Why, gentlemen, said the Captain, “what makes 
you all look so serious?’^ 

“ Captain,” said Mr. West, “have you heard from 
your nephew, William Mitten, lately?’^ 

“Not very,’^ said the Captain, turning pale. “ Has 
anything happened to him f ’ 

“Not that I know of, but his mother asked me the 
way to Mr. Waddel’s yesterday, with some anxiety, 
and I didn’t know but that something had happened. ” 

“She asked me, to,” said a second. “And me, 
too,” said a third. “And me,” said a fourth. 

“ Why,” resumed the Captain, “it is the strangest 
thing in the world ! Nothing can be the matter with 
William, for his mother was at my house last night, 
and I hardly ever saw her more cheerful than she was, 
all the time she stayed. And, what was unaccountable 
to me, then, and is more so now, she and my wife were 
pumping me all the time about the road to Waddel’s.” 

“ I thought it very strange,” continued West, “ that 
she did not go to you for information.” 

“I was not at home in the forenoon.” 

“Oh, well, that accounts for it.” 

It was sheer good luck on Mrs. Mitten’s side that 
* none of the party knew but that she had gone to con- 
sult her brother in the first instance. While the whole 
company were standing amazed, Mr. Houghton came 
111), sniiling — 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


169 


Captain,’’ said lie, “ as I came into town this morn- 
ing, I met your sister’s Tom about two miles this side 
of my house, in a cart, with two boxes in it, and about 
two feeds of fodder and corn ^Why, Tom,’ said I, 

^ where are you going f ” 

^ ^ I’ m gwine, ’ ’ says he, ‘ ‘ to Mr. W odden’ s, who keeps 
school at Mr. Williston’s, in Car’lina.” 

“ Well,” said I, Tom, you’ll never get to Oar’lina 
this way, till you pass through Augusta.” 

“Why, ain’t this the Washington road. Mas’ Josh?” 
said he. 

“No, Tom, you left the Washington road three or 
four miles back.” 

“ Emp-e-e-eh !” says Tom. “My sign fail me this 
time, that’s sartain !” 

‘ ‘ What sign, Tom f ’ 

“ Why, you see. Mas’ Josh, when I come to the fork 
of a road, and don’t know which to take, I spit in my 
hand and hit ’um with my forefinger, so; and which 
way the mos’ spit fly, I take that road. But, bless the 
Lor’, the spit cheat me this time, that’s sartain.” 

A peal of laughter followed this narrative, loud 
enough to be heard over half the village 5 but the Cap- 
tain did not swell it much. He disguised his wrath, 
however, pretty well. 

“I put him in the right road again,’’ continued Mr. 
Houghton, “ and for fear the spit wouldn’t fly right I 
advised him of all the forks between my road and the 
Washington road ” 

“The mystery is explained,” said the Captain, 
“ Anna has sent off a cart load of comforts to her son, 
which she did not wish me to know about ; and now 


170 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


ril have to go after Tom^ for he’ll never find the way 
to Waddel’s during ash and oak.’’ 

^^What did hemean^ Captain,” inquired Houghton, 
^^by Waddel’s keeping school at Mr. Williston^s ?” 

^^The place where Waddel’s school is keptds called 
Willington, and Tom has mistaken it for a man’s name.” 

As the Captain’s feeliugs were not in tune with those 
of the company, and as every question made the dis- 
cord more and more grating to his refined sensibilities, 
he concluded to retire ; so putting on an air of perfect 
indifference to the whole matter, and saying carelessly 
must see Anna,” he withdrew very leisurely ; but 
one who saw how his face reddened, and his pace quick- 
ened with every step towards his sister’s, after he turned 
the nearest corner, might with truth have exclaimed, 
^^The ma-an’s mad!” 

CHAPTEE XIY. 

Captain Thompson had ample cooling time before he 
reached his sister’s residence, for it was full two hun- 
dred yards from Mr. West’s store ; but contrary to 
the law in such case made and provided,’’ instead of 
cooling, he got hotter and hotter with every step of the 
way. Business at home demanded his attention just 
at this time — the weather was still cold, and might in 
a day or two turn much colder. When and where he 
should overtake Tom, and how he should dispose of 
him and his load when overtaken, were i^erplexing con- 
siderations. Then his sister’s .unconquerable indul- 
gence of her son, with its probable consequences, coming 
upon the raw places of his mind which it had already 
produced, was quite irritating. Xor was he entirely 
forgetful of the fun of the village already enjoyed at 


MASTER WILLIAM ^IITTEK 


171 


his expense, and likely to be renewed on his return. 
All these things pressing upon a mind naturally excit- 
able, were not calculated to lull it into repose. The 
reader, therefore, will not be surprised to learn that 
they so completely absorbed the Captain’s attention, 
that he became wholly forgetful of the claims of dig- 
nity, and the poetry of motion,” and that he reached 
his sister’s steps in a palpable trot. 

As soon as his sister saw him she showed signs of 
great alarm, for she observed that he was in a state of 
very unusual excitement. Her alarms had a good 
effect upon the Captain ; they reduced his feelings 
instantly to a little above temperate. 

What,” said he, “was in those boxes you sent off 
by Tom, this morning?” 

“One contained some clothing for William, and — ” 

“More finery, I suppose !” 

“No, not a stitch of finery.” 

“What then!” ^ 

“Two suits of coarse Wegro cloth, (I may call it) 
some cotton homesj)un shirts, and a few home-knit 
stockings.’’ ^ 

This was refreshing to the Captain. “Well, I re- 
joice,’’ continued he, “ that your love for your boy is 
beginning to show itself in the right way at last. And 
what was in the other box?” 

^ ^ Some refreshments ’ ’ 

“More cake, raisins, almonds, sugar-plums, &c., 
&c., of course.” 

“No, not a single one of either.” * 

“What then ?” 

She named the contents of the box. 

“Well, if he must be crammed, better this than the 


172 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


first lot. Now I’ve got to pack off after that fool 
negro, pressed as I am with business, just at this time, 
for he’ll never find the way to Waddel’s while the 
world stands 

‘^Brother, I am sure you need not take upon your- 
self that trouble. Tom is a very intelligentmegro ’ ’ 

‘'Humph!” I 

" And I have no doubt but that he will go 

straight to Mr. WaddeFs without a blunder. I give 
him such i^articular directions that he can’ t miss the 
way ’ ’ 

“ You, gave him directions ! Why, there never was 
a woman — a town woman — on the face of the earth, 
who could find the way to a house fifteen miles from 
her own, after going to it twenty times ; and there 
never was one who could direct Solomon to a place ten 
miles off, so that he could fiml it; and here you’ve 
sent off a stupid jackass of a negro to go sixty miles 
under your directions, and t(\a place that you’ve 
never been to yourself!” 

"Well, if he doesn’t find*the way, it will be all your 
fault ” 

'^How the devil will it be my fault?” 

" I got the directions from you, and I gave them to 
Tom just precisely as I received them from you, and 
Sister Mary will prove it.” 

"I didn’t pretend to go into the datails, for I did not 
know what you and Mary were fishing for ; and if I 
had given them, there is not a Tom in the world that 
could have followed them.” ^ 

" I think, brother, you underrate themegro charac- 
ter, as you are too apt to do with all charl^cter, except 
that of the ' lords of creation.’ I must think that there 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 173 

is a little sense in the world that does not belong to 
them. Perhaps, however, I am mistaken.^’ 

Well, what directions did you give Tomf ^ 

She repeated them. 

And you think Tom can’t miss the way under these 
directions f ’ 

am sure he] will not, for I have proved him to be 
uncommonly shrewd at finding roads.’’ 

^AYell, he did not get ten miles from town before 
he got lost — took the Augusta road, and told Joshua 
Houghton that he was going to Mr. Wodden’s who 
kept school at Mr. Williston’s, in Carolina !” 

^^Oh ! Mr. Houghton must have misunderstood him. 
He couldn’t have miscalled Mr. Waddel’s name, for it 
has been repeated in his hearing over and over, and 
over again. Isn’ t Burke’ s meeting-house on the W ash- 
ington roadf ’ 

Near it.” 

And isn’t it more than ten miles off?’’ 

^^Yes.” 

Well, he knows the way to Burke’s meeting-house, 
for he has taken me there repeatedly.” 

^^Yes, and if you had told him to go by Burke’s 
meeting-house, he would have gone that far straight, 
at least.” 

couldn’t have told him that, for I didn’t know 
that Burke’s meeting-house road and the Washington 
road were the same myself.’’ 

‘ ‘ I sui^pose not. But it is not worth while to stand 
talking about it. I know that he will not find the way 
to Waddel’s in a week, if ever, and I must go after 
him. Was old Ball shod or bare-foot when he set out ?” 

Newly shod.” 


174 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Did you give him any money to bear his expenses'?’^ 
gave Tom money. 

“Did you understand me to ask whether you gave 
old Ball money to pay his expenses 

The Captain, without waiting for an answer to his 
last question, went home with his foot down^ and of 
course his wife was all meekness and obsequiousness. 

He did not speak to her at all, but called out in her 
presence to Dick, “to have his horse ready at the peep 
of day, for him to pack off after Anna’s Tom.’^ 

“ Master, is Tom run away?” 

“Ask your mistress there— she can tell you.’’ 

“Miss’ ess, is Tom ” 

“Go about your business, you black rascal,” said 
Mrs. Thompson, in an undertone. 

“ Kigh !’’ whispered Dick, “ some ’en wrong here !” 

The Captain fell to writing letters furiously — -jumped 
up and ordered Dick to grease the chaise— resumed 
his pen, and jumped up again and felt in his breeches’ 
pockets, wrote some time, and jumped up again and 
jerked open a drawer, looked in and shut it up again, 
folded up a letter and commenced another, jumped up 
and ordered Delphy to get him some warm water to 
shave, wrote again, stopped, punched the fire and told 
Suckey to tell Dick to bring in some wood — “plenty 
of it, for I don’t know that I shall go to bed to-night 
wrote again, rose, went out and stayed a little while 
and came in again ; folded another letter or note, and 
went to writing again ; finished another note, and 
called for the water to shave. Just here Mrs. Thomp- 
son, in a very subdued tone, informed him that supper 
was ready. It consisted of tea, biscuit, butter, cheese, 
sliced ham, cold tongue, and a few cold sausages. The 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


175 


Captain took his seat, and looked at them as if they 
were all laughing at him, and then fell to work upon 
them as if he were fighting them for their rudeness. 

‘^What clothes shall I put up for you, husband 
said Mrs. Thompson tenderly. 

I rockon you’d best put up all I’ve got, for I exi)ect 
to wear them all out before I find Tom and get him 
safely home again. It will he, at the very least, four 
days before this can be aecomjDlished. Upon this hint 
the good lady stocked him for a week. 

After supper, the Captain shaved, went to the stable 
to see that old Eoan was in traveling order, returned, 
handed the letters to his wife, and went to bed. The 
letters were all left open, from which the wife under- 
stood perfectly that her duty concerning them was to 
be learned from their contents. 

And now, having put the Captain quietly to bed, we 
beg leave to indulge in a few reflections upon his con- 
duct towards his sister and wife. We can find it in 
our heart to palliate, if not wholly excuse his gusts of 
temper before his lovely sister. The heat of his mind 
would not cool, even in cooling time. But how can 
we justify him in a direct issue between them upon 
the capacity of themegro race generally, and of Tom 
in particular, for asmdbing his blunder wholly to stu- 
pidity, when he knew, and must have remembered, 
that negro stupidity had nothing to do with it ! It 
was the result, as the reader has seen, of a symbolical 
delusion (if we may be allowed the expression) and 
not of mental imbecility. It was not in keeping with 
the Captain’s usual candor to suppress this important 
fact. 

Nor' can we find a single apology for the Captain’s 


176 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


long protracted crustiness to his wife. He had relie\^ed 
himself at his sister’s of his redundant steam ; there 
was nothing to raise it again. On his way home, her 
playful “fishing” frolic was certainly no offence, and 
her meekness in his presence should have reduced him 
instantly to tenderness and kindness. But so it is 
with these “ lords of creation ; ” they must not only 
be allowed to become furious, but they must be 
allowed to spend their wrath upon the dearest object 
they have on earth. Is it likely that women will con- 
tinue to marry if such conduct be persisted in ? And 
what is to become of the world when they cease to 
marry ? 

Having made no allowance for the six or eight miles 
that he had lost on the Augusta road^ Tom concluded 
at the end of seventeen miles from home that he must 
not be far distant from John Smith’s, and that he 
might not pass his stopping place ff'om ignorance of 
its location, he determined to keep himself well advised 
of his approaches to it, from such travelers as he might 
meet. His mind was no sooner made up to seek light 
than an opportunity was afforded him in the person of 
one who entered his road but a few yards ahead of 
him. 

“Master,” said he to the stranger, “ how far is it to 
Mr. Smith’s?” 

“Which Smith?” 

“John Smith.” 

Parson John Smith ?” 

“Well, I reckon he’s a Parson, for Mis’ess is a 
mighty good Christian, and she told me I must be sure 
to stay at his house to-night, anyhow, day or night.” 

“That’s the road to Parson Smith’s,” said the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


177 


traveler, pointing to the road he had just left. “ It’s 
just three miles to his house.’’ 

Tom took the road and went on his way rejoicing. 
He soon reached the Parson’s, and, without introduc- 
tion or question to the good man, he commenced 
ungearing. Mr. Smith, noticing him from his win- 
dow, walked out and asked him what he was doing. 

Ain’t this Parson Smith’s f ’ enquired Tom. 

“Yes.” 

“ Mis’ ess told me I must stay here anyhow, no mat- 
ter what time I got here.” 

“ Who is your mistress, my boy ?” 

“Mrs. Mitten — mighty good woman.” 

“ I don’t know her j I reckon there’s some mistake. 
Have you any paper f ’ 

“ Yes, sir,” said Tom, handing his pass. 

The* parson read it and said, “Tommy, my boy, 
you’ve come out of your way. I’m not the John Smith 
you are seeking. He lives right on the road you left, 
just this side of Washington.” 

“ Emp-e-e-e-ch ! How far is it, Master f ’ 

“ Why, if you go back to the Washington road it is 
about fourteen miles, but if you’ll take that road that 
turns around the horse lot, you will save near two 
miles.” 

Tom took it, fell again into the Washington road 
and reached Smitli’s an hour or two in the night. 

The next morning the Captain and Tom had an even 
start ; they both left their respective stations as soon 
as they could see to drive. As it was next to impos- 
sible for Tom to miss his way after being set right by 
Houghton, until he passed Little Eiver, the Captain 
made no inquiries for him up to this point, but em- 
L 


178 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


ployed himself in a close look-out for the tracks of the 
cart wheels and of old Ball. ^]very now and then he 
would espy traces of a two-wheeled vehicle, drawn by 
a new-shod horse, which he felt pretty sure was the 
equipage he was in pursuit of ,* but still he was far from 
certainty upon this head. He stopped at the first house 
he came to after he passed the river and enquired 
whether a negro, driving a large bald-faced sorrel^ 
in a blue cart, with two boxes in it, had passed that 
way. 

Yes,’’ said the man whom he accosted, I met him 
yesterday at the forks of the road up here, axing for 
Parson Smith’s, and I put him in the road to the Par- 
son’s.” 

Far son Smith ! Who the devil made him a parson ? 
A month or two ago, he was one of the profanest men 
I ever saw.” 

You don’t know the man, sir. Brother Smith is 
one of the most religiousist men in all this country.” 

“ What ! John Smith, just this side of Washington f ’ 
^^Oh, no, not him ! Parson Smith, who lives over 
here by Bethesda meeting-house.” 

Here the Captain, contrary to his habit, let fall a 
very bad word against Tom, and proceeded : 

What could ha ve put it into the head of that addle- 
brained goose to quit the plain beaten road and run off 
into by-ways to hunt up parsons and meeting-houses !” 

Stranger, I don’t know but that I am to blame 
for that. He axed for John Smith ; I axed him if he 
meant Parson John Smith, and he said he reckoned he 
was a parson, for his mistress ’ was a mighty good 

woman, and told him he must stay all night ” 

“ Well, please direct me the way to Pardon Smith’s.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


179 


Stranger, I hope you won’t think hard of me ” 

Oh, no, sir, no! I don’t blame you the least in the 
world. Direct me the way to Parson Smith’s, if you 
please, for I am in a great hurry.’’ 

‘^Pm mighty sorry if I turned him out of the wayj 
but he axed me ” 

I give you my word and honor I don’t blame you at 
all, but I shall blame you if you don’t tell me the way 
to Smith’s as you did the negro.” 

‘‘Oh, yes; well, I will with a great deal of pleasure. 
Go on till you pass a little old field to your left, and 
you’ll come to a road winding round the fur edge of 
it; take that, and it will lead you straight to Parson 
Smith’s.” 

As the Captain turned off the other continued: 

“Stop one minute, stranger!” 

The Captain stopped. 

“Have you ever thought, stranger, of the sin of pro- 
fane swearing ?” 

“Yes,” said the Captain, cutting up old Eoan, “I 
never do it unless I am very angry.” 

The Captain had no difficulty in finding the road to 
Parson Smith’s, but he had great difficulty in solving 
a mystery which presented itself to him as soon as he 
reached it. As the road was but little traveled, the 
tracks of the cart wheels and of old Bald remained 
entirely unobliterated. They proved to be the same 
that he had caught glimpses of on the way, and sup- 
posed to be Tom’s tracing; but while they showed 
plainly that he had gone to the parson’s, there was no 
sign that he had returned to the direct road from the 
parson’s. This perplexed him seriously, and made 
him wonder whether Tom had not gone to a camp 


180 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


meeting with the parson. There was no alternative, 
so he determined to go to the parson’s, even at the 
hazard of getting a more serious lecture Irom him than 
he had already received from one of his flock. He 
soon reached the house, and saw a lady standing in the 
door. He called to her to know ‘^whether Parson 
John Smith lived there?” The lady looked at him in- 
tently, but gave him no answer. He repeated the 
question, but still received no response. Why, what 
upciii earth does the wom^n mean ?” muttered he. If 
there was a fatal disease on this earth called ^ The 
Womauj^ I should die of it to a dead certainty.” 

At length the kind woman broke silence: 

“Light and come in, and warm yourself.” 

“No, I thank you, madam, I am not cold, and am 
in a great hurry. Did a negro man stop here with a 
cart and a blaze-faced horse, yesterday?” 

The lady made no answer, but advanced slowly to- 
wards him. Coming near the chaise she said : ^ ^ You’ 11 
have to speak a little loud to me; I’m a little hard of 
hearing.” 

“Is this Parson Smith’s?” asked the Captain in a 
pretty loud tone. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Where is he?” 

“He’s ^the pig pen, sp ’tending to his pigs.” 

“Did afegro man and a blaze-faced horse stop here 
yesterday ?’p 

“You’ll have to speak a little loud to me; I’m a 
little hard of hearing.” 

The Captain repeated the question louder. 

“I think he did ” 

“ Which way did he go?” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


181 


'‘Sir?” ^ 

"Which- way did-thefeegro-boy-go ?” bawled the 
Captain to the top of his Ivoice. 

" Well, I’m not so deaf as all that comes to — I think 
he went round the lot there.” 

The Captain wheeled off, soon struck the trail, and 
‘ ' opened on it ” loudly. 

At the true John Smith’s, he learned the history of 
Tom for the iDreceding night. Smith told him that he 
had given Tom such directions as would carry him on 
his way through Washington. 

The Captain pushed on through the village, struck 
the trail on the Petersburg road, followed it for two 
miles, and stopped for the night at Mr. Brown’s. 
Brown told him that Tom had passed there early on 
the preceding morniug, and that this was all the infor- 
mation he could give of him, except that he seemed to 
be getting along very well. A little after night-fall 
another gentleman stopped at Brown’s, whom the 
landlord greeted with all the cordiality of intimate 
friendship, under the name of Col. White. "Here’s 
a man,” said Brown, "who can probably tell you 
something about your boy; he lives right on the road 
about five miles this side of Petersburg. "A boy,” 
continued Brown to White, " in a cart, with a balled 
sorrel in it.’’ 

"Oh yes,” said White, "he stopped at my house 
and enquired for Hhe Hohot^^ but I understood him 
and put him in the road to Eehoboth.” 

At Col. White’s Tom was much nearer to Doctor 
Waddel’s than he was to "the Hobot;” but he had 
promised "to go like a streak of lightning,” and he 
was verifying his pledge. 


182 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


As Ms game had doubled/^ the Captain deter- 
mined to quit the trail and push directly for Eehoboth. 
By this movement he had gained greatly upon Tomj but 
not enough to overtake him that day. We will not 
detain the reader with further particulars of the chase^ 
suffice it to say that about two hours by sun on the 
third day, in a rugged by-way, about two hundred 
yards from the highway leading from Augusta to 
Barkesdale^s Ferry, and about three miles Irom the 
ferry, he came up with Tom under very interesting 
circumstances. On a washed hill side, Tom, as a 
classic reader is reported to have said, ^4n trying to 
avoid Skilly he had rushed upon Caribogus’^ — or 
(leaving the classics) in trying to avoid a deep gully 
on the one hand he had run over a log on the other, 
and though he did not quite upset his cart, he tilted it 
far enough to pour but both boxes in the gully. The 
top of one of the boxes was so far opened by the fall, 
that it discharged four biscuits and two crackers in 
the gully. The top of the other burst entirely off, and 
the tumblers of preserves were broken, having deliv- 
ered a part of their contents to the top of the box, 
part to the package, part to the road, and having re- 
tained a part. As the biscuit and crackers were too 
dirty to be replaced, as the jelly and jam were irre- 
trievably lost to William, and as Tom, from fatigue 
and long fasting, was very hungry, he rightly conceived 
that he could make no better use of them than to eat 
them. As well as he could with a biscuit, he cleaned 
the package, then the board (which happened to rest 
bottom upward), then skimmed the top off what was 
on the ground, and topped off with what was left in 
the tumblers. As he did not observe the rule of pro- 


MASTER WILLIAM 3nTTEN. 


183 


portion in eating, his biscuit and crackers gave out 
before he had dispatched the last tumbler, and he was 
just wiping it out with his forefinger and sucking it, 
when the Captain came up with him. 

^^Lor gor’ a’ mighty. Mas’ David!” exclaimed Tom, 
as the Captain approached him, I never was so glad 
to see anybody in all my born days. These people 
’bout here been ^foolin’ me all day long 

^•How did you get here, you woolly-headed scoun- 
drel!” 

^‘One man told me I’d save three miles by cornin’ 
this way.” 

As the Captain got to saying bad words again early 
in the interview, notwithstanding the lecture he had 
received, and as what farther passed between him and 
Tom was of little interest, we omit it. They were now 
but about six miles from Willington, and the Captain, 
very reluctantly, concluded to pilot Tom himself for 
the remainder of the way. The idea of appearing at 
Willington, with a cart load of provisions for his 
nephew, was very annoying; but the thought of lug- 
ging them all the way home again, and disappointing 
his sister, was still more annoying; so he chose the 
least painful alternative. 

Things were righted, and the two set out for the 
ferry. They reached it and found a wagon waiting the 
return of the flat from the South Carolina side. His 
h3art leaped at this good fortune, for he knew that the 
wagon could hardly cross without going through Wil- 
lington. He was not disappointed. The wagoner 
lived but five miles from Willington, was going through 
it, and knew everybody who lived within six miles of 
it. The Captain took his name, placed the boxes and 


184 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Mrs. Mitten’s letter in his charge, offered to pay- 
freight, but the wagoner would receive nothing, placed 
Tom’s unexpended cash (seven dollars) in his hands 
for William, dropped a line in pencil to Newby ex- 
plaining things, and set his face homeward rejoicing. 
Nothing of interest occurred on the way back. The 
Captain’s good fortune prepared him for receiving 
Tom’s account of his adventures, which were wonder- 
ful indeed, and which Tom never got done recounting 
during his life. The moral of it, as drawn by himself, 
may perchance be of service to the reader: If I had 
forty thousand niggers, I’d never sen’ one so far from 
home by he’ self ’less he know de road firs’ chop.” 

The Captain reached home early on the fifth day 
from his departure. He gave the particulars of his 
trip to his wife and sister by snatches, as he happened 
to be in the humor, until they were all told. The fate 
of the jelly and jam was very provoking to Mrs. Mit- 
ten, who was ^^sure if she had been there, she could 
have saved some of it.” The Captain was too busy to 
visit the public square for more than a week after his 
return, and his visits were very brief for more than a 
fortnight. But Tom became for a long while a dis- 
tinguished character on the square. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


185 


OHAPTEE XV. 

The incidents of the last chapter were, upon the 
whole, fortunate. They cured Mrs. Mitten of sending 
delicacies to her son, cured William of his complaints 
for many months, improved his style when speaking 
of his Preceptor, brought him out in suitable apparel 
for his place and associate, and sprung all the ener- 
gies of his mother to reconcile herself to his lot. 
When so much is said, the reader need not be told that 
Captain Thompson was also a great gainer by them. 
Things now went on more smoothly than they had for 
years. William soon stood a head and shoulders above 
any member of his class. The Georgians began to 
brag on him, the Carolinians to emulate him. He 
began te mingle in the active sports of his fellows, to 
be cheerful, if not forward, in sharing his part in pro- 
viding fuel and making fires. His new clothes, to be 
sure, did not quite reach him before he blossomed,” 
for lie kept ther changes of his first supply as long out 
of sight as iDOSsible; but he was far from being in full 
bloom when ^Hhe fruits of home industry” reached 
him. Immediately upon their arrival, he appeared in 
the handy work of Mrs. Thurlow and Mrs. Figgs, and 
Brace’s lips were closed to all further sarcasm upon 
his dress. In short, he followed his uncle’s advice as 
well as he could, and forthwith began to experience 
the practical benefits of it. His new clothes ^ ^ scratched 
him mightily at first, but he had got use to them,” as 
he wrote to his mother; but he thanked her for them. 
The change in his dress was not much more remarkable 
than the change in his physical constitution. 


186 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 

From a weakly, puny, cowering, retiring, say-notli- 
ing boy, he became a muscular, active, sprightly, vig- 
orous youth, who was nearly a match for any of his 
age in running, jumping, wrestling and the active 
sports of the school; and for loud clamoring at bull- 
pen and town-ball he had no superior. There was but 
one South Carolinian in the school who tjould throw 
him down, and that one was Andrew Go van; there was 
not one in the school who could match him in running. 
From fifty lips the exclamation would come: ^^Did 
you ever see a fellow come out of the kinks as Bill 
Mitten has f ’ By the time it came to his turn to make 
fires in the Academy (one of the duties of every stu- 
dent), he was as prompt and skillful in this work as 
most of his associates. Sweeping out the Academy 
(another duty) of course was easy. Beyond all this, 
there was nothing remarkable in his history until the 
annual examination and exhibition came on. These 
exercises continued for several days, and they were 
attended by multitudes — more, by many, than usually 
attend our College Commencements in these days. 
The order was as follows: First, the examination of 
all the classes; which was invariably conducted by the 
visitors, except when they declined the task, and this 
rarely occurred. Then speaking, for which prizes 
were awarded. And lastly, the performance of one or 
two dramatic pieces, usually a comedy and farce; but 
these were discontinued after the first and only public 
exhibition in which William Mitten took part, and the 
reading of compositions was substituted for them. 
The speakers were divided into three classes, accord- 
ing to their age and advancement; the first class being 
composed generally of the oldest students in the school; 


MASTER WILLTAM MITTEN. 


187 


the second, of those next in years; and the third, of 
the youngest, excluding those in the elementary 
studies. This arrangement was not always observed, 
however. Sometimes the larger and less advanced 
were put in (lie first class, and the smaller and more 
advanced, in the second class. William’s age flung 
him in the lowest, though his advancement would have 
entitled him to a place in the second. The examina- 
tion approached, and William wrote j)ressingly to his 
mother and uncle to attend. They did so, and reached 
[N'ewby’s the day before the exercises commenced. 
William recognized them at the fence, and ran out to 
meet them. Neither of them knew him, till he greeted 
them, any more than if they had never seen him. 
His fine face was there, a little tanned, but that was 
all of William Mitten that was left. He had grown 
like a weed, and developed as we have said. The 
Captain looked at him in triumph — the mother in 
tears. Mr. Newby was soon at the chaise and intro- 
duced to Mrs. Mitten. Five or six ladies were standing at 
his door, observing the new comers. 

fear, Mr. Newby,” said Captain Thompson, 
^Hhat you will not be able to accommodate us.” 

^^Oh, very easy, if you can rough it a little for a 
few days.” 

Why, where will you put us? Your house seems 
full already.” 

^^Oh, we’ve plenty of houses, as you see.” 

But those are the students’ houses; what are you 
going to do with them?” 

^^Oh, we cotton them upon such occasions as this, 
if necessary.” 

Cotton them?” 


188 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


“Yes; put ’em all in one hole and ram them tight 
together. However, I don’t think that will be neces- 
sary. We’ve two large rooms in the house, in one of 
which we will put the ladies, and in the other the gen- 
tlemen.” 

“Well, that will answer very well,” said the Cap- 
tain. “Do you take charge of Mrs. Mitten, and Will- 
iam and Tom and I will attend to the horses and bag- 
gage.” 

“Why, this is a new horse, Tom,” said William, as 
he sprung to unsaddle a horse which Tom had led up. 
“ Whose is he?” 

“He’s Mas’ David’s. He say if you do well while 
he’s up here, he gwine to give him to you. He’s a tip 
top hos.” 

“Well, I’ve got him safe,” said Bill. “What’s his 
name ?” 

“He name Snap Draggum.'^ (Snap Dragon.) 

“Here, Tom,” said the Captain, “ take this trunk 
in the house ” 

“I’ll take it, uncle,” said William. 

“You can’t carry it, my son; it’s pretty heavy.” 

“Let me try it,” said Bill; so saying, he flung it on 
his shoulder, and marched olf with it with perfect ease. 

“Look ya-a-nder!” exclaimed Tom, as he moved off. 
“Bless de Lor’, Mas’ William done got a man ’ready.” 

The Captain saw him near the door with his burden 
without a totter, then turned, wiped his eyes twice, 
and was just blowing his nose the third time, when 
William leaped the fence to assist Tom in leading the 
horses to the horse lot. 

“Why, Bill,” said the Captain, “ I never saw a boy 
improve as you have in all my life.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


189 


The ladies gathered at Mr. Newby’s were all of the 
first respectability. They soon made Mrs. Mitten easy, 
and before they parted, several of them and Mrs. Mit- 
ten promised to interchange visits most certainly ^4f 
ever they came our way.” (They never came our 
way.) 

The night shut in and the woods were vocal in all 
directions with rehearsals of speeches and parts of 
plays. A very comfortable supper was provided for 
the guests (increased by several after the Captain’s 
arrival), the mattresses were spread, all laid down, the 
gentlemen talked till twelve, the ladies till two, and 
all was hush — save here and there the bubbling cry 
of some strong” snorer ^4n his agony.” They were 
all, of necessity, up betimes the next morning, when 
they declared generally that they had ^^had a most 
delightful night’s rest.” Thus passed a wonderful 
night for Mrs. Mitten. 

The next morning exhibited a complete metamor- 
phosis of the students. It was easy now to distinguish 
the sons of the Patricians from those of the Plebs, 
though turTcey-red and indigo-Uue predominated largely 
over nankeen and gingham still. 

From seven o’clock till nine, people of all ranks, 
ages, sexes and sizes might be seen wending their way 
to the school house, or rather to the area in front of 
it — for the examination was conducted under the 
stately oaks of the campus. Some of the first men of 
the two States were there. At nine the examination 
commenced. The students, with very few exceptions, 
acquitted themselves admirably. In all the studies of 
his class William distinguished himself. On this day 
an incident occurred which was absolutely luxurious 


3IASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


lyo 

to all who disliked Brace. The reader need hardly be 
told th;it however bright in wit, or ingenious in teazing 
Brace might be, he was not very bright in his studies. 
He was in one of the Virgil classes, and he had caught 
from a student, given to spouting poetry aloud, when- 
ever he had any in store to spout, the four first lines of 
Dry den’s translation of the second book of the ^nead. 
Doctor John Casey was conducting the examination, 
fianked on his right and left with an imposing row of 
dignataries. Begin,” said the Doctor to Ked, who 
was at one extreme of the class in more senses than 
one, ^^at the second book of the ^nead, and read the 
Latin first.’’ Ned did so to the extent of six or eight 
lines. 

Now translate.” 

Ned proceeded: 

“All were attentive to the God-like man, 

When from his lofty couch he thus began.” 

A roar of laughter burst from every one — loudest 
from the boys; for two reasons, first, because they 
gloried in Brace’s mortification; and second, because 
they wished the company to understand from this 
token that they were thoroughly versed in the poetry 
of all languages under the sun. 

‘^Give us the translation in prose, if you please,’^ 
said the Doctor. 

Ned continued: 

“ Great Queen, what you command me to relate, 

Kenews the sad remembrance of our fate.” 

The laugh was repeated, but the .Doctor had no 
occasion to repeat his request; for Ned had exhausted 
his stock of poetry. His debut was doubly unfortu- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


191 


nate; for besides exposing him to ridicule, it left him 
wholly in the dark as to how much of the Latin his 
version had covered. So he began his literal transla- 
tion two lines back of what he had already rendered; 
and Dryden would have been amazed to discover how 
he had butchered the Nantuan Bard, according to 
Brace’s translation. 

This day and the next were consumed in like man- 
ner. On the third day the speaking commenced. 

A stage of rough plank was erected adjoining the 
school-house. On this sat the Judges, of whom Will- 
iam H. Crawford, John C. Calhoun and William W. 
Bibb were three. These hardly ever failed to attend 
the public exercises of Doctor Waddel’s school. The 
two first had been his pupils, and the reader will ex- 
cuse the digression, to learn that the first wife of the 
Doctor was the sister of the second. 

In front of the stage, large logs were laid parallel to 
each other on which planks were placed at convenient 
distances apart, for seats. The whole was covered 
over with a bush-arbor. It was but a scant provision 
for the throng that attended upon this occasion; but 
what provision could accommodate all, when the num- 
ber fell little, if any short of two thousand people? 
The ladies, several hundred in number, occupied all 
the seats. 

Without going through the details of the exercises, 
suffice it to say that Mitten took the premium in his 
class by the award of the judges, approved of by every 
man, woman and student present at the exhibition. 
He had a part in both the dramatic pieces; and here 
he acquitted himself, if possible, with more credit than 
in declamation. When Mr. Calhoun, with a few com- 


192 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


piimentary words, i^resented liim the prize, the whole 
assembly applauded loudly and cordially. One pretty 
little girl, beautifully dressed, quite forgot lierself, and 
kept on clapping after everybody else had done, till 
her mother, laughing most heartily, stopped her. 

Mitten, Mitten, Mitten!^’ was on every lip. All the 
ladies, old and young, wanted to kiss him; all of the 
little girls fell in love with him. A thousand compli- 
ments saluted the ear of Mrs. Mitten from lij)s that 
she knew not Through Captain Thompson, she had 
been made acquainted with Doctor Waddel, before 
the exercises commenced, and through him, with most 
of the gentleman who sat as judges, and her acquaint- 
ance was still farther extended by the sojourners at 
Mr. Newby’s; but now everybody sought an introduc- 
tion to her, and everybody congratulated her upon the 
performance of her son. 

Most of the judges waited upon her, and all of them 
had something flattering to say of William, or to him 
in her presence, for he was always at her side. 

Master Mitten,’^ said Mr. Crawford, am proud 
to claim you as a Georgian. Cultivate your brilliant 
talents as a duty and an honor to the State that gave 
you birth.’’ 

Master Mitten,” said Mr. Calhoun, ^Gbe United 
States have an interest in you; and should I live to 
see you in the prime of life, I shall be sorely disap- 
pointed if I do not see you the admiration of them 
all.” 

As for Captain Thompson, he was in danger of going 
off by explosion. He had been Ailing up with joy, 
from the flrst sight of Bill, to the close of the exhib- 
ition; and now to find him so far surpassing his most 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


193 


sanguine expectations in everything, to see him stand- 
ing at the head of his classes in scholarship and decla- 
mation, and ahead of the whole school in dramatic 
talent, to hear him applauded by all, and specially by 
Messrs. Crawford and Calhoun, and (though last not 
least) to see his sister almost in transports, was really 
perilous to the good Captain. He had tried to quench 
the volcano that was in him with rain; that is to say, 
he had cried six times, twice secretly, and four times 
publicly; but this gav^ him only momentary relief. 
Besides, the fire kept kindling- all the time, and he 
could not keep crying all the time. Whithersoever he 
cast his eyes he saw something to inflame his ecstacy, 
and what would have been the consequence it were 
hard to tell, had not David Eamsay sauntered near 
him just at the critical moment. “Why, David, my 
young pilot, how do you dof’ said the Captain. 
“Come here, my son, and let me introduce you to 
Mrs. Mitten, my sister, mother of William; Anna, 
this is David Eamsay, of whom you heard me speak 
“How do you do, Master Eamsay,’^ said Mrs. Mitten, 
smiling almost to a laugh. “I am very familiar with 
your name, for my brother could talk of no one else 
for some time after his return from his first visit to 
this place.” 

“I remember Captain Thompson very well; but I 
cannot call to mind anything that I said or did to make 
him remember me.” 

Here the Captain was a little at fault, but he soon 
rallied and replied: 

^‘It was your prompt courtesy to us as strangers, 
David, the coincidence of our names, but most of all, 
your connections, who are known to all, that impressed 

M 


194 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


you so permanently upon my memory. I no sooner 
asked if Mr. Waddel was at home than you answered 
in the affirmative, sprang to the door, invited me in, 
and brought Mr. Waddel out to see me. This was but 
common politeness, to be sure, but I did not see any 
of your playmates offer to do the same thing. But 
for your kindness I might have had to knock long at 
the door, and sit long in the' cold parlor, before Mr. 
Waddel w^uld have come to my relief.” 

This interview was an admirable safety valve to the 
Captain. It set his thoughts to running back to times 
and incidents well calculated to relieve him from over- 
pressure of joy. 

The conversation with young Eamsay was but just 
ended, when Doctor Hay stepped up and greyed the 
Captain and his sister with a fervor which showed 
plainly that time had not abated his friendship for 
them in the least. The greeting was returned with 
equal warmth. The Doctor expressed his regret that 
he had been detained by professional business at home 
until the last day of the exhibition j but added that he 
had been amply compensated for his trouble in coming 
by the rich entertainment he had just enjoyed. “An 
entertainment, Mrs. Mitten,” continued he, “to which 
your son was the largest contributor. I deem myself 
fortunate in having my son in the close connection of 
class-mate and room-mate with him.” 

Mrs. Mitten returned the compliment by repeating 
what she said upon hearing that her son had fallen 
into the same room and class with the Doctor^ s son, 
only changing the terms of the compliment so far as 
to accommodate it to the Doctor’s ear. 

“And now,” continued Doctor Hay, “you must 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


195 


tarry with me to-morrow night on your way home. 
Let us go over to Petersburg this afternoon, stay there 
to-night, take an early start in the morning, and 
(barring accidents) we will reach my house by dinner 
time or a little after. There rest until the next morn- 
ing, when, if I can’ t prevail on you to stay longer, I 
will give you an early breakfast and set you on your 
way in time to get home, without traveling much in 
the heat of the day.’’ 

The invitation was cordially accepted, and as soon 
as one of William’s small trunks could be packed with 
selections from his wardrobe forjthe Summer vacation, 
and Mrs. Mitten could renew her invitations and 
promises to the few ladies who had not left, and return 
her thanksgiving to Mr. and Mrs. Newby for their 
kindness to her son, and their hospitality to herself, 
and kiss Miss Thompson because she bore the family 
name and both knew they must be related, though 
neither could tell how, amd give each of the house ser- 
vants a quarter of a dollar apiece fo*r being willing to 
do for her all that Tom did, and a dollar to the wash- 
woman for extra services, and a half dollar (sent) to 
the ostler for fear that he might be disappointed and 
her brother forget him — Mrs. Mitten was ready ta 
depart. 

While all this was transacting, the chaise was at the 
fence, Doctor Hay was sitting in his sulky, Gilbert 
was mounted on his father’s horse, Silverheels, Will- 
iam on Snap-dragon, and Captain Thompson at the 
door getting comfortable fast. 

The Captain escorted his sister to the chaise, she 
took her seat, the Captain took his, and off went the 
happiest company that ever moved from Willington. 


196 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Nothing of interest occurred on the way to Petersburg, 
for Mrs. Mitten, having to send back for her veil just 
as she reached Dr. WaddeFs, was not even attended 
with inconvenience, as she declared that she could not 
think of passing by Mr. WaddeFs door without light- 
ing and bidding him good-bye, and thanking him for 
his kindness to her son. These little duties consumed 
exactly the time needful for recovering the veil. It 
gave the Captain, too, an opportunity - of charging 
William and Tom to notice well the road, so that 
either of them might find it without difficulty on their 
return. Doctor Hay’s servant, Quash, went back for 
the missing article, and strange to say, found it read- 
ily. The dusk of the evening found the company at^ 
Mrs. Eagland’s, in Petersburg. 

The reader will naturally enquire where the immense 
throng which attended Dr. WaddeFs exhibitions found 
accommodations. We answer, at all the houses within 
six or seven miles of Willington, and at the four vil- 
lages of Lisbon, Petersburg, Vienna and Eichmond. 
The three first were tolerably thrifty little villages at 
the time of which we are speaking. Petersburg was 
quite an active, busy, commercial little town. It was 
situated in the fork of the Savannah and Broad rivers, 
and contained some eight or ten stores, with the usual 
supplement of grog-shops, and the very unusual sup- 
plement of a billiard table. Notwithstanding these 
last, the citizens of the place were generally remark- 
able for their refinement, respectability, intelligence 
and hospitality. The dwelling hous^ far outnum- 
bered the stores and shops. It was separated from 
Lisbon by Broad Eiver, and from Vienna by the 
Savannah. Lisbon we believe could never boast of 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


197 


more than two stores and a groggery, and as many 
dwellings. Vienna surpassed Lisbon in everything, 
but exactly how far and in what we are not able to say, 
except in John Glover’s house and store, which had 
no match in Lisbon. The road leading to Willington 
from Vienna ascended a hill, about a mile from the 
latter place, which was crowned with Hichmond. 
This town was very compactly built. It consisted of one 
dwelling house, one doctor’s shop, one kitchen, one 
stable, one corn-crib and one smoke-house. Its white 
population consisted of Doctor Thomas Casey, his 
wife, one or two children, and Warier (or Waller)* 
Beckly, a student of medicine. 

Neither of the four towns surpassed this in hospi- 
tality. Doctor Casey’s house was open to all, and his 
heart was as open as his house — so was his wife’s. It 
was a great resort of the beaux and belles of the neigh- 
boring villages; here they were always made welcome 
and happy. In these villages, the remotest of which 
was not over seven miles from Willington, was ample 
entertainment for all who attended the exhibition and 
could not procure it elsewhere. 

Captain Thompson and Mrs. Mitten spent a happy 
night at Doctor Hay’s, and were at home the next day 
by five in the afternoon. As they stopped at Mrs. 
Mitten’s door, the Captain inquired of William how 
he liked Snap-dragon. 

^^Oh, I am delighted with him, uncle. I think he’s 
the finest horse I ever saw!” 

^AVell, he’s yours, my son. So you see if your 
uncle scolds when you do ill, he rewards handsomely 
when you do well.” 

^^Oh, thank you, thank you, uncle, a thousand 


198 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


times! You never will find me doing ill again, I 
promise you. I am so glad that you sent me to Mr. 
Waddel’s. I am so glad that you would not allow me 
to leave there when I wanted to — you have been, you 

are a father to me, and the very best of fath 

Well, that’ll do, my son — you paid me for him be- 
fore I gave him to you. Eemember your pledge as 
often as you ride him.” 

Alas! Captain, where was your usual forecast when 
you made this present % 

CHAPTEE XVI. 

The cup of Mrs. Mitten’s happiness was not yet 
full. In less than a month after Captain Thompson’s 
return from Willington, he embraced religion and 
joined the Methodist Church j and in the course of a 
week his wife followed his example. The story which 
he told at the first Love Feast which he attended after 
his conversion is worthy of being recorded: 

^^I have had,” said he, ‘^for many years before me, 
a most beautiful example of the Christian character in 
my dear sister. I never could see but one fault in her, 
and that was ^a fault which leaned to vij'tue’s side:? 
too much indulgence of her sod. She embraced relig- 
ion early in life; and often when I have seen her at 
her devotions, my conscience has smitten me sorely. 
But I always managed to silence its reproofs, for a 
time at least. Oh, how eloquent is the godly life of a 
sister! Whether because she was my sister, that the 
inward monitor would not forsake me, although re- 
pelled a thousand times; or because I have had for 
many years a secret leaning towards religion, which 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


199 


prolonged his visits, or some unknown cause, I cannot 
tellj but a month never rolled over our heads that I 
did not observe in her the gleaming or broad out- 
shining of some heavenly virtue, which came 4ike 
lightning to my soul.^ 

As some of you know, about a month ago my sis- 
ter dispatched a servant with some comforts for her 
boy at school in South Carolina. Knowing that I 
would bitterly oppose the measure, she kept it secret 
from me. I found it out, however, and posted off 
after the servant in a great rage. The blunders of the 
negro increased my rage. I stopped at a house to 
enquire for him. A plain illiterate man came out and 
informed me that he had left the plain large road and 
gone off on a by-way. In my wrath I cursed outright, 
and on the trip, I repeated the sin oftener, I believe, 
than I had in the whole course of my life before. As 
I turned to leave the good hearted man, ^ Stranger,^ 
said he to me, ^ have you ever reflected upon the sin 
of profane swearing I was in no frame of mind 
for reflecting upon anything, and in the worst possi- 
ble for receiving religious lecturesj but a flash of re- 
spect for the good man came over me, which kept me 
from insulting him, and I replied that I was not in the 
habit of profane swearing. 

My pursuit ended and object gained, I now set my 
face homeward, and on the way had nothing to but to 
reflect. My mind had hardly resumed its accustomed 
tone when the question of my road-side friend, in the 
rude accents in which he put it (for I have not given 
it in his own terms) forced itself upon my memory. 
Associated as it was with the ignorance, the artless- 
ness and innocence of the propounder, I smiled, and 


200 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


endeavored to divert my thoughts; but the question 
would control them, so I let it have its way. ^ Have 
you ever reflected upon the sin of profane swearing V 
No, honest, untutored yeoman, I never have! What 
a sin it is! Every other sin has something to plead in 
its behalf. The gamester, the cheat, the swindler, the 
thief, the robber the pirate, sin in the hope of gain. 
The assassin for the gratiflcation of revenge, the 
drunkard to appease a raging thirst, the prodigal for 
many gratifications. But thou, oh, profane swearer! 
what have you to plead in the extenuation of thy 
offence? It is purely gratuitous. In one, single, short 
imprecation, you embody sins enough to damn a world. 
You insult the Almighty, you trifle with his holy 
name, you violate the law of reverence, the law of 
love, the law of humanity, the law of peace! You set 
God’s power at defiance and invoke God’s power to 
crash your neighbor and your brother! And all for 
what? What momentary gain do you derive or 
promise yourself from your sin of sins? Often, most 
commonly, you have not even the flimsy plea of pas- 
sion to gloss over your crime. You mingle it in your 
sports, your revels, your banquets, and horrify it with 
a laugh!’ 

^^You will not wonder, brethren, that I became 
alarmed, and resolved never to swear another oath 
while I lived. This was as far as I loent at the time, 
but it was not as far as I felt by a long, long way. 
Thenceforward my sins were more constantly and 
vividly before me than ever, until I sought the pardon 
of them, in God’s own way, and as I believe found 
it — I am strongly tempted to say, ‘ I hnow I found it.’ 

In religion the Captain was as he had been in every* 


MA8TEB WILLIAM MITTEN, 


01 


tliiDg else that he undertook ; open, active, liberal, 
ardent, zealous, laborious, untiring. What some 
Christians call a cross^ such as holding family prayer, 
particularly before strangers of rank, praying in pub- 
lic, and speaking in public on proper occasions, was 
to him no cross at all ; and we advise those Christians 
who cannot perform these offices (and there are such) 
not to dignify them with the name of crosses. 

Captain Thompson and his wife led off a great revi- 
val in the village, upon which Mrs. Glib took occasion 
to deliver her theology very freely. 

Well, well, well said she to Mrs. Lark, ‘Hhis is 
what you call getting religion, is it Sinning all your 
life, and then kneeling down there two or three days 
and then jumping up a Christian !’’ 

^^But, Mrs. Glib,’^ said Mrs. Lark, ^^you don’t re- 
member what they say. They say that under Peter’s 
preaching three thousand were converted and joined 
the church in one day.” 

^‘Well, is old Howell, Peter, or is old Sherman, 
Paulf’ 

^‘No, but they say that they preach the same gospel 
that Peter and Paul did ” 

‘^Oh, yes, they say, they say, and they’ll say anything 
to get up an excitement, and to scare people. Now I 
love religion — real, genuine religion — that kind of re- 
ligion which a person goes to work calmly, soberly 
and deliberately to get. When I get religion, this is 
the sort I mean to get ; but this wild-fire^sort of relig. 
ion I don’t believe in at all.” 

“But they say you don’t get it when and as you 
want it.” 

“They do I I should like to know how they know 


202 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


what I can do, arid what I can’t. Now, mind what 1 
tell you, nine out of ten of these flashy converts will 
back-slide before the year’s out — you mark it ! You 
remember we had just such a fuss as this flve years 
ago, and old Groat and John Dunn and Sally Nix and 
Polly Pines, all got religion and were mighty happy ; 
and where are they now. 

^‘But Mrs. Glib, you must do them the justice to 
say that a great many more of them than that held on 
to their religion.” 

Yes, such holding on as it was. Holding on like 
Sam Strap, who is mighty sanctified all flay Sunday, 
and slandering people’s children all the week — saying 
that genteel people’s children are little better than a 
den of thieves. That’s what you call holding on, is 
it ! That’s what you call religion is it? And there’s 
old Turner prosecuting little boys for a little harmless 
sport — and he a preacher ! Don’ t tell me anything about 
any such religion as that ! You’d kill yourself laugh, 
ing if you could see my Flora Claudia Lavinia take 
them off. Now you know, Mrs. Lark, that I don’t 
allow my children to make game of religious people 
of any sort. But some nights when we come home 
from these night meetings, she begins before I have 
time to stop her, and when she begins I get in such a 
laughing fit I can’t stop her. She takes off old How- 
ell to perfection — his very voice, action and words— 
then old ^ brother ’ McBoon’s praying — the very twang, 
and old ‘sister’ McEea, creeping about among the 
mourners And ‘brother’ Wilson’s singing! It 
seems to me sometimes she will kill me. I always re- 
prove her for it. I said to her last night, ‘ Flora, you 
naughty girl, you really must quit this, if you don’t 


3IASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


203 


I shall get right angry with you— they mean well, 
poor things, and you must not make fun of them.’ ” 
Nine weeks after this conversation, Mrs. Glib was 
brought to death’s door with the bilious fever ; the 
first man that she sent for to pray for her was Captain 
Thom];)Son ; the other was “Brother” McBoon. The 
first woman she asked to pray for her was Mrs. Mitten, 
and the second was “Sister” McEae — charging every 
one of them, while they prayed for her, to pray for 
her children also, and for Flora in particular. She pro- 
fessed conversion in two days from the date of the first 
prayer that was put up in her behalf, and died. Flora 
never professed conversion. She married in three 
weeks after her mother’s death a worthless, silly fel- 
low named Curt, who administered upon Mrs. Glib’s 
estate because no one else would, took the guardian- 
ship of the boys, because no one else would ; hired a 
man of some property and no principle, named Carp, 
to go upon his bonds, sold out all the property of the 
estate, except the negroes, as soon as he could, and 
moved off with his security and the whole tribe, white 
and black, to the frontier of Alabama, to the great 
relief and greater delight of everybody. Nine years 
afterwards the younger Glib (Ben.) came back to the 
village to learn something about the estate. To the 
amazement of all who knew the family, he was a decent, 
pious, but ignorant man. His story was that Curt and 
Carp settled near each other in Alabama. That in a 
very few years after they got out there Carp had got 
from Curt every negro that belonged to the estate, and 
then moved still further West. That the elder Glib 
got into a difiQculty with a gambler, who shot him. 
Of his sister, he could be got to say no mor.e than that 


204 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


he did not know where she was. That his other brother 
was thrown from a horse in a quarter race and killed. 
That he himself, seeing nothing but poverty and ruin 
and disgrace all around him, had sought and obtained 
religion. That as soon as he did so, a good Baptist 
man of considerable wealth took him by the hand, 
gave him employment on his farm, telling him that if 
he would do well, he would give him good wages till 
he came of age, and them give him a little start in the 
world. That his friend had been as good as his word, 
and that he had now enough to live on comfortably, 
though he was not rich. 

The records showed of what the estate consisted. 
He took copies, went to the old family mansion, saun- 
tered round it for a time, wept, and left the village for- 
ever. 

Having gone thus far with the Glib family, we had 
as well dispose of it finally — it is replete with moral 
lesson. Carp had played his cards adroitly to avoid 
responsibility. He knew the character of the boys, 
and judged that none of them would live long enough 
to call him to account. He knew, too, it would be an 
easy matter to wheedle Onrt out of all that he was 
worth individually or representatively, and conject- 
ured that as soon as poverty began to stare her in the 
face, Mrs. Curt would be setting lawyers upon his 
trail. He, therefore, from the day that they left 
Georgia, became exceedingly kind and exceedingly 
attentive to her ladyship. He would often speak to 
her playfully of her husband’s inefficiency and bad 
management — declare that but for her nothing could 
hav^ induced him to become his security; ‘^but I 
saw,” said he, “ everybody hanging off, nobody seemed 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


205 


to care anything for you or your poor orphan brothers; 
and I said to myself, well, as for the boys, they will 
soon be big enough to shirk for themselves— they can 
rough it; but what is to become of Mrs. Curt % I can’t 
see her suffer, and I’ll be her friend if it costs me 
every dollar I have in the world.” 

He used a thousand seductive arts to entoil, and he 
succeeded. He loaned money liberally to Curt, often 
advising him in the presence of his wife not to take it. 
^^Mr. Curt,” he would say, “two per cent, a month 
will ruin you. I can get that from other people, and, 
therefore, I don’t like to loan for less, and I will not 
lend it to you unless Mrs. Curt says so.” 

“How much,” said Mrs. Curt, “is two per centf’ 

“Two dollars on every hundred dollars,” said Carp. 

“Two dollars on every hundred dollars! why that is 
very little indeed! I’d borrow all the money in Ala 
bama at that price, if I could get it.” 

“Yes, Mrs. Curt, but you will not like to see your 
negroes under mortgage to secure the debt.” 

Mortgage ! What’ s tli at 

“Its a pledge of aflegro to secure the debt.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing — surely Mr. Curt can pay the 
little sums that he borrows with only two per cent, on 
them.” 

Tl^ “ little sums ” ran up so fast that in a few years 
every megro that Curt had in his hands was under 
mortga^. Hot all for money loaned, but for corn, 
fodder, pork, bacon and other things sold; and for 
large balances in horse swaps, carpenters’ bills paid, 
and large outlays for Curt in erecting a mill; for Mr. 
Curt having a fine mill site on his land, said it would 
never do to let such a fine water power be lost; so he 


206 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


commenced building a large mill when, as yet, there 
was nobody in the neighborhood to patronize it, and 
when his brain was about as well suited to manage a 
mill as a claw-hammer is to maul rails with. 

About the time that the last mortgage ripened to 
maturity, Mr. Carp concluded to go and take a view, 
as he said, of the Louisicma country. He went, and 
came back so delighted with it that he must needs 
move there forthwith. But he could not go until he 
collected his Alabama debts. Curt and he came to a 
settlement, when it was found that Curt owed him 
more by three hundred dollars than the negroes were 
worth by Curt’s own valuation; he agreed, however, 
as Curt was a particular friend, to take the negroes at 
Curt’s estimate, and give him a receipt in full. Curt 
felt very grateful for the kindness, and promptly 
signed a bill of sale of the negroes, drawn up by Carp 
himself, in which he took every precaution to guard 
against after-clapSj^^ as he called them, and which, 
in afteriimes, gave a western lawyer very great annoy- 
ance. Here it is: 

‘^Whereas, on settlement this day made between 
myself and John Carp, it appears that I am in his 
debt for moneys advanced to me on my own aecount, 
and also as administrator of Mrs. Brigita Glib, and 
also as guardian of the children of said Mrs. Glib, to 
the amount of ten thousand dollai^; and whereas, I 
did execute a mortgage to said John of the within 
fourteen negroes to secure the said debt, said negroes 
not being worth by three hundred dollars as much as 
said debt, at my own valuation, which mortgage is 
given up on my signing this bill of sale; and whereas, 
said John did become my security as administrator 


MASTER WILLIAM 3IITTEK 


207 


and guardian aforesaid, and I being willing to make 
him safe from any loss or losses for becoming my 
security as aforesaid, do make this bill of sale for that 
purpose also; for all these considerations I do sell and 
convey to the said John the following negroes, namely: 
(naming them, their sizes, sexes, and ages.) And I 
warrant them to said John against all claim by me or 
anybody claiming the same as heir of Mrs. Glib or any 
other person whatsoever, etc., etc.” 

This remarkable bill of sale Mr. Carp required 
should be signed by Mrs. Curt as well as her husband, 
and that Curt should sign it ‘^for himself and as ad- 
ministrator and guardian.’^ Curt expressed his read- 
iness to comply with all these requisitions but the first. 
As to this, he said ‘ ^ he doubted whether his wife could 
be induced to sign it. ’ ’ ^ ‘ Well , ’ ’ said Carp, ^ ‘ ask her^ 
and if she refuses, all well, it will make no difference.’^ 

Curt went to her with downcast looks and told her 
all the circumstances. To his astonishment she ex- 
pressed her perfect readiness to sign it. ^‘Sign it,” 
said she, ^^yes, that I will. Mr. Carp has been so kind 
to us that I can refuse him nothing.” The bill of sale 
was executed to Mr. Carp’s wishes. ^^And now, Mend 
Curt,” said Carp, “what are you going to do with no 
help here? You’d better bundle up and go with me 
to Louisiana. I’ll befriend you to my last dollar.” 

“What am to do with my mill and my little house- 
hold plunder and farm?” 

“True,” said Carp, pondering, “you can’t well 
leave them. Oh, I’ll tell you how to manage it. Ad- 
vertise them for sale two months hence. I’ll take 
your wife and child on, and fix her up by the time you 
get there. When you’ ve sold out aU but your best 


208 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


horse, mount him and come on. Sell for cash, for it 
will be inconvenient for you to come back to collect 
money. Pity when I was selling my land to Watson 
I did not think to put yours in the trade too. May be 
you can sell it to him yet. By this plan you can come 
on with no trouble or expense hardly.’^ 

Ourt said he liked the plan mightily, but doubted 
whether his wife would agree to it. It was submitted 
to her, and she assented to it readily, only charging 
her husband to come on as soon as possible. In four 
days after this interview. Carp and all his negroes 
were ready to take the road. He had provided a nice 
little Jersey for Mrs. Curt and her child, and for fear 
of accident, he promised to drive it himself all the 
way to Louisiana. Just as the caravan was about set- 
ting out, “Stop,^’ said Curt, where shall I find you 
in Louisiana 

“Sure enoughr^ exclaimed Carp, “Now didn’t we 
like to make a pretty business of it! You will find us 
in OhuckilucTcimaw Parish, on the Sabine river. Here, 
I’ll give you the name on a piece of paper — Tonna- 
foosTcy is- the town where the Post Office is. If you 
write before you hear from us, direct your letter to 
TonnafoosJcy Lost Office, ChuckilucJcimaw Parish, Louis- 
iana. There, it is all written out so you can’t miss 
it.” So saying, the whole caravan moved forward, 
leaving poor Curt in loneliness, wifeless, childless, 
helpless and in money penniless. Carp settled on 
Buffalo creek, Wilkinson county, Mississippi, where 
he and Mrs. Curt lived as man and wife for many 
years. Several children were the fruit of this union. 
Mrs. Curt had been dead about three months when 
Glib traced Carp to his hiding place. Her death was 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


209 


awful. When the doctor told her that she could not 
possibly live more than twenty-four hours, she raised 
a scream that was terrific. “Doctor,” cried she, “I 
am ruined. I’m lost. Lost, lost, lost forever?” A 
minister was sent for and came. “You needn’t talk 
to me, sir — you needn’t pray for me, sir — I thank 
you — but if you knew— oh, what shall I do! ” 

“If I knew what, ma’am? Is it to bad to be 
told ” 

“It might be told, but telling it will do no good and 
much harm. It isn’t passed, it’s womj— yes, it has been 
for years, it’s now, it’s all the time.” 

“Can’t you tell it to your husband, or some of us?” 
said one of the several ladies at her bedside. 

“ He knows it — he knows all about it. No, my hus- 
band doesn’t know it — ^he’s innocent, poor man— yes, 
he knows part of it, but not all of it — not half of it, 
not a quarter of it, not a thousandth part of it — wasn’t 
it a shame to treat him so?” (another scream). “Her 
mind’s gone,” said one. “No, it isn’t! I know all 
that I am saying— I know you, I know everybody 
here. It isn’t anything passed, I tell you. It’s now, 
I’m dying in it, arid what good can praying do? It’s 
too latt to get out of it. If I were to get well I couldn’t 
get out of it. My children scare me, my husband 
scares me, the negroes scare me; my thoughts scare 
me, everything — send for Mr. Carp here, and you all 
go out of the room. Go clean away, send all the chil- 
dren away, and all the servants, and I’ll tell him all 
about it.” 

It was done, and Carp entered the room. 

“Mr. Carp, see what you’ ve brought me to! I never 
would have thought of it if it hadn’t been for you — ” 

N 


210 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


‘^Haven’t I treated you well^ Flora?’’ ^^Yes^ bet- 
ter than I deserve; but what does it all amount to ? 
You’ve brought me to everlasting ruin. It was bad 
enough in me too leave my poor husband; but to leave 
him as we did — with nothing to live on — to fill his ears 
with lies— to mak^ fun of him — to send him all over 
the country hunting for us !” 

‘^Oh, Flora, don’t take on so! Try and compose 
yourself. Everything depends upon it. Think of 
your children! The thing’s past and gone now, and 

fretting over it can’t mend it ” 

Our children! Our children! Look there! 

Look there! Mr. Carp! Mr. Carp! Mr. Carp!” 

Another scream — and her mind was gone. She lay 
for a few minutes in a stupor, during which the com- 
pany were called back. Then she began in a low, 
calm tone of voice: 

“Ma! Ma! Ma, did you tell them ? you’re 

scared ‘Pray for Flora?’ You laughed Ko 

ISTo yes, both In the pulpit Mrs. McEae 

(a wild laugh)! Mr. Wilson (another)! There, it’s 

bed time All dead but me! Ben’s alive we’ll 

all meet in heaven He was so stupid Sabine?” 

Another convulsive laugh — and she died. 

Carp was asked repeatedly what it was that dis- 
tressed his wife so much in her last moments. He 
said she had told him all about it, but that it was 
nothing of any consequence — she was out of her head. 

Benjamin Glib soon explained the mystery. After 
satisfying himself fully that Carp was in Wilkinson, 
he went to a lawyer in Natchez and unfolded the whole 
history of his case; from the death. of his mother to» 
Carp’s elopement with his sister. Mr. Stark, his 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


211 


attorney, advised him to remain in Natchez until he 
(Stark) could go to Wilkinson and ascertain all the 
particulars of Carp’s history, from his settlement in 
Mississippi to the time present. Two days were amply 
snfacient to assure him that Glib’s story was true in 
every particular. He immediately took the prelimi- 
nary steps necessary to the institution of suits against 
Carp in behalf of both Glib and Curt’s daughter Sarah, 
now going under the name of Sally Carp. The child’s 
interests could not be secured without letters of guard- 
ianship, and Stark assisted in procuring them. He 
did not allow Glib to api)ly for them until he had 
fortified himself with proofs impregnable to sustaint 
his application. As soon as it was made, all Wood- 
ville was thrown in a ferment. Carp’s infamy was 
exposed, and the horrid death of his putative wife 
disposed everybody to believe it. Sarah caused some 
difficulty at first, but as it was much more agreeable 
to her to pass for a legitimate than an illegitimate 
child, it was easily removed. The suits were insti- 
tuted and recoveries had which swept away nearly the 
whole of Carp’s estate. But we must not suppress 
the history of the bill of sale. 

As soon as he was served with process. Carp went 
to Mr. Smith, a great attorney of Woodville, to engage 
his services. ‘AVell,” says Smith, ^Get us take up 
one case at a time; what have you to say to Glib’s- 
case?” 

Lord bless your soul, squire,” said Carp, I’ ve got 
’em tied so fast that they can’t kick. Turn which way 
they will, they’re headed.” 

^^Well, Carp, I’m glad to hear you say that, old 
fellow, for public prejudice is very strong against you.’" 


^12 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Just look at that bill of sale, squire, and tell me 
how they’re to get out of that, will youl” 

Smith read it, and while reading it, his countenance 
assumed nearly every variety of expression that the 
human countenance can assume. When he had fin- 
ished — 

Well,’^ said he ^^of all the bills of sale that ever I 
laid my ey^ on, that beats. If you had come to me 
and told me to draw up an instrument, in the form of 
a bill of sale, that at all times, and in all Courts, would 
be equal to a confession of judgment by you, in any 
suit brought against you, by any person claiming 
under Mrs. Glib, I couldn’t have come within gun-shot 
of this for that purpose. Burn it up immediately — 
destroy it — what’s your wife’s name doing to that bill 
, of sale? Isn’t Flora Curt the woman you’ve been liv- 
ing with as your wife ? But it’s not worth while to talk 
about it— destroy it, I tell you, immediately!” 

^^And then what title will I have to show for all 
these negroes and ” 

^ None; trust to the defects of Glib’s title, or to his 
not being able to identify them ” 

^^Is that the best advice you can give me?” 

^ ^^Yes.” 

^^Then I’ll get another lawyer. Stark would give 
me the same advice; I understand it!” 

What do you mean, you cheating, swindling adul- 
terous rascal?” said Smith, moving to the back room 
with a stick hunting motion. Carp was gone before 
his return. 

Carp employed a young attorney of Woodville, who 
confirmed his views of the bill of sale in every par- 
ticular. ^‘There’s the title,” said he, plainly and 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


213 


distinctly set forth — not simply upon a good considera- 
tion, which would have been all-sufficient, but also 
upon a valucible consideration, and, to make assurance 
doubly sure, upon divers other considerations. This 
title, like the resistless torrent, is sustained by various 
tributaries from perfectly pure sources. Then it is 
fortified by a rampart of truth and generosity on your 
part, Mr. Oarp, that must forever protect it from the 
imputation of fraud. All else is mere surplusage. 
How such a profound jurist as Mr. Smith is, could 
have advised you to destroy this all-important docu- 
ment, I cannot conceive, unless he overlooked the 
sterling legal maxim: Utile per inutile non vitiatur.^^ 

Carp was enraptured with this impromptu display 
of legal ability, rejoiced at his change of attorneys, 
and highly fiattered at finding his skill in guarding 
against afterclaps^^ so fully avouched. 

Far as we have digressed from the direct path of 
our narrative, we are strongly tempted to follow this 
bill of sale through the several Courts in which it 
made its appearance, but in charity to the readers 
patience we forbear. Suffice it to say, that as soon as 
Stark saw it, he took a copy of it, served notices to 
j)roduce it in all the cases, and never let it get out 
of Court until it had, as we have said, turned over- 
nearly the whole of Carp’s estate to Glib and his 
niece. This is but one of a thousand instances in 
which rascality has over-reached itself and been made 
subservient to justice. 

Glib and his niece returned to Alabama rich, and 
both prospered in life. Curt was lucky. Watson 
purchased him out entirely in less than two months 
after Carp’s departure, at tolerably fair prices, and he 


214 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


set out in quest of his wife with three thousand dol- 
lars in his pocket. He had not gone far in Louisiana 
before he learned that there was no such places in the 
State as Chuckiluckimaw and Tonnafoosky, so coming 
upon a valuable piece of land, he purchased it cheap, 
and settled down upon it with two negro women, pro- 
ceeds of his surplus funds. His land grew in value 
and his negroes in number, and thus when he died (a 
little before his wife), he left a right pretty little 
estate, which went to swell the fortune of his daugh- 
ter. It would have been lost to her but for a letter 
which he wrote to a friend in Georgia, just before 
his death, who three or four years afterwards went to 
visit Glib. 


CHAPTEE XYH. 

As SOON as Captain Thompson joined the Metho- 
dists, his sister expressed a wish to attach herself to 
the same church to which he and his wife belonged. 

^^No, Anna,’^ said the Captain, advise you 
against it. I am sure you cannot be a better Christian 
in the Methodist church than you have proved your- 
self to be in the Presbyterian church. If I can be as 
bright an ornament to my church, as you are to yours, 

I shall deem myself greatly blessed 

^‘Brother, you greatly over-rate my piety. I have 
great many faults and weaknesses which your eye 
never sees, but which I see and mourn over, and strug- 
gle against, every day.’’ 

“I shall hardly be convinced of my error by that 
kind of proof, my dear sister. One brazen sin would 
bring your piety in question with me more than a 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 215 

hundred faults and weaknesses hidden in the heart, 
and mourned over and struggled against every day. 
But enough of this— stay with your people, with 
whom you have long held sweet communion, to whom 
you are endeared by a thousand ties, and who are 
entitled to the benefit of your influence and example, 
I am not sure that the division of the church into 
sects is not of God’s appointment. Some good results 
from the division, obviously. It secures the scriptures 
from interpolation and mutilation, stimulates the sev- 
eral churches to good work, liberality, generosity and 
activity in the advancement of the Eedeepier’s King- 
dom; brings truth to the test of open, fair and able 
discussion, guards the church from new heresies, if it 
cannot eradicate old ones, and effectually prevents a 
union of church and State in this blessed country, at 
least. So much good does it, and much more would 
if do, if each sect would practice, as it should, the 
heavenly jDrecepts of love and charity taught them by 
their common Head. If others will not practice them 
let us do it, my dear sister, and be assured, if our ex- 
ample passes unobserved on earth, it will not be over- 
looked in Heaven.” 

Those are sweet counsels, my dear brother, and 
they have already banished from my mind every 
thought of quitting my church. It is strange, very 
strange, but I cannot dispossess my mind of the 
thought that some heavy calamity is going to befall 
us. I am too happy for earth. I question whether 
there is this day a human being this side of Heaven 
as happy as I am. You once said to me sportively, 

^ turn Methodist and shout, ^ and now I could do it with 
right good will. I can hardly keep from it ” j 


216 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


^^And why should you wish to keep from it? It is 
one of the means which Providence has appointed for 
relieving the overcharged heart, and I do not see why 
it should be repressed. I know why it is repressed, 
very well. It is regarded by most people as very un- 
dignified — only, however, when most people are devoid 
of the feeling that provokes it. Let the people, dig- 
nitaries and all, witness a closely contested election of 
deep interest; at one moment it seems to be going one 
way, at the next the other, and thus the contestants 
alternately pass each other, and they stand abreast 
with but Iwo votes in the box — they come out for the 
same man. What do you see, then, among the vic- 
tors? One weeps outright with joy, another laughs 
frantically, another vents the long suppressed breath, 
and smiles; but all applaud, and nine-tenths raise a 
shout that may be heard for miles. There is nothing 
at all undignified in this? It is perfectly natural. 
Now they are all moved by the same spirit; but it 
manifests itself in different ways according to the dif- 
ferent temperaments of the crowd. I suppose if a 
battery of artillery were bearing upon them, and they 
were forbidden to shout, under pain of being fired 
upon, they might suppress it (doubtful if all would); 
but what would be thought of the man who would 
recommend such a measure, or any milder one, to pre- 
vent this honest outburst of feeling ? When General 
Washington passed through the country on his South- 
ern tour, he was met by multitudes at every town and 
village at which he stopped. As soon as the throngs 
caught a glimpse of the approachiiig hero, they made 
the welkin ring with their shouts. As he passed 
through the streets, women waved their handkerchiefs 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


217 


and wept; old soldiers wept, but most waved their 
hats and shouted again and again, loud and long. He 
would have been regarded as a Tory who gave no out- 
ward demonstration of joy at such times. The very 
next day these same people would go to a Methodist 
meeting and sneer at a new convert for shouting. And 
what has Washington done for any one of us compared 
with what Christ has done for the new convert? 
What, the liberty which Washington gained for us, 
compared with ^ the liberty wherevoith Christ has made us 
free V What can we promise ourselves from this great 
Republic, compared with the Saviour’s legacy to the 
soldiers of the cross? At His birth the angels of 
heaven shouted. His second coming to earth will be 
heralded by a shout. At His triumphant entry into 
Jerusalem, the whole multitude of his disciples 
shouted. The Pharisees {strict religionists) begged him 
to rebuke them. What was His reply ? ^ I tell youy if 
these should hold their peace, the stones would immediately 
cry ouV But He had not yet died for these disciples. 
IS’o one is offended at a shout from the dying Christian! 
In the times of David and the Prophets, it was not re- 
garded as undignified in holy men to shout. I used 
to laugh at the shouting Christians, myself. I used to 
be provoked with them, until I learned something of 
their feelings, and then I was very ready to excuse 
them. From excusing I went to thinking, and from 
thinking to reading upon the subject; and the result of 
my deliberations and research is what I have delivered 
to you. l^ow, do not misunderstand me. I do not say 
that Christians ought to shout, much less that shoutii g 
is an infallible test of Christianity; and, least of all, 
that there are not just as good Christians who never 


218 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


shout as there are who do. I do not believe that there 
is a better shouting Christian in our church than you 
are; but I do say that it is the most natural thing in 
the world that Christians of some temperaments should 
shout, if I understand anything about religion; and 
that ridicule of it comes with ill-grace from a shouting 
world or a non-shouting church.” 

^^But, brother, how does it happen that there is 
shouting in no other church in the world but the Meth- 
odist f ’ 

Just because the Methodist is (in one sense) the 
newest church in the world. When we join a church 
we as naturally drop into the ways of its people as we do 
into its creed. I know very well where they all began; 
it was in such a scene of excitement and clamor as 
amazed the lookers-on, and led them to mock, and to 
say that the converts were full of new wine. But all 
churches will, in i)rocess of time, conform themselves 
to the opinions and manners of the world, just as far 
as they- can, without compromising their principles. 
Prudence or policy may dictate this course — to avoid 
persecution, ridicule and contempt, or to gain popu- 
larity. i^ever did the world show any mercy, not to 
say charity, to religious excitements. The Methodists 
have hardly yet passed the fiery ordeal through which 
all zealous, self-denying. God-serving, world-defying 
Christians must pass. The marks of violence are still 
upon their humble meeting houses, and derision meets 
them at all their services. As yet they have no church 
etiquette (if you will excuse the term), no thought, 
and very little knowledge of the world’s dignities; for 
they are mostly poor and illiterate; no idea that joy 
should be disciplined, or transports suppressed. They, 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


219 


therefore, give the rein to their feelings just as nature 
prompts them. They are happy, very happy, and 
they express their happiness in the natural way, with- 
out fear of startling their brethren, offending their 
pastors or provoking sinners. But it is not to be sup- 
posed that our church will be exempt from the common 
lot of churches. With a penniless ministry, fervid, 
zealous, devout, persecuted, traversing the country 
from the mountains to the seaboard, and preaching the 
gospel to every creature, white, black, bond, free, rich, 
poor, at their own doors, it must grow, and as it grows 
it will increase in dignity, science, fine preaching, fine 
dressing, fine eating, fine stations, fine circuits, fine 
music, fine churches and strong voting. Of course, it 
will then become, especially t^ith the most respected 
office holders and office seekers, very respectable. 
There will be religion in it, sterling religion in it 
still — religion armed for giant work, and well em- 
ployed; but there will be no shouting in it, no frater- 
nal embraces in it, no out-gushing of hymns from a 
thousand voices, eloquent of the heart’s heavenly in- 
spirations, no ‘ brothering ’ between great preachers 
and poor members. Or if these distinctive features of 
primitive Methodism be not entirely effaced, you will 
have to seek them to find them in some poor brother’s 
circuit, in the gorges of the mountains, the wilds of 
the West or the negro quarters of the rich.” 

Verily, brother, you have said more in defence of 
shouting than I supposed could be said; and most cer- 
tainly, if I never shout myself, I shall always, here- 
after, look with the greatest indulgence upon those 
Christians who do.” 

^^That is the lesson that I would inculcate, my sis- 


220 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


ter. And when you learn what may be said in defence 
of it, tell me; what think you of that Pastor of a 
church who requested a good sister of his flock to leave 
the church, because, under his own glowing description 
of heaven, or under something else he said, that fllled 
her heart with joy, she relieved it with a shout? 
Think of her, if you please, perchance the holiest of his 
charge, retiring from the house of worship — from the 
sermon which refreshed her, under the eye-shot of the 
congregation, shamed, subdued, depressed, disgraced.’^ 

^‘Oh, my dear brother! Surely such a thing never 
happened?’’ 

‘^Surely such a thing did happen, if a credible 
witness is to be believed. It may be that that woman 
paid more; for her mSans, to build the church from 
which she was ordered — paid more, for her means, to 
support the Pastor who so deeply wounded her, than 
any other member of his congregation. She never 
shouted again, in his church, you may be sure, nor 
did any other one of his flock; and the consequence 
was (I conjecture, not without some reason), he had 
ever afterwards a very quiet, orderly, Laodicean 
church. Charity, my sister! let there be charity 
among the churches. Instead of looking for faults in 
each other, let them be looking for what is good in 
each other, and let them reciprocally interchange the 
good and reject the faulty. In this way, all might be 
improved — all would be more endeared to each other 
than they are.” 

You have so well defended shouting among Chris- 
tians, that perhaps you can give me some new views 
upon another usage of^our church, which has always 
seemed to me much more objectionable than shouting. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


221 


I allude to your altar scenes in times of revival. 
Some are singing, some are talking to mourners, and 
two or three are praying aloud at the same time, and 
when to all this is added the shouts of the converts, 
the whole scene is one of utter confusion, it seems to 
me. What can you say in defence of all this?” 

Nothing. It is not only indefensible, but it is 
positively unscriptural. Each and all of these exer- 
cises are proper in their place; but to have them all 
going on at one and the same time is little better than 
to set all the rules of order, human and divine, at de- 
fiance. The honesty of intention and benevolence of 
purpose with which it is done, are all that make it 
tolerable, even to the most charitable. But these are 
very poor excuses for those who are presumed to have 
read Paul’s Epistles, and yet encourage such things. 
And here a very pertinent illustration of what I have 
just said i^resents itself. If at revivals in your churcTi 
your people would borrow a little more fervor from 
ours, and ours in like circumstances would borrow a 
little more order and solemnity from yours, I think 
both would be improved. Dignity, gravity and order 
well become the Christian; but love, joy and zeal much 
better becomes him; and if they cannot all be harmon- 
ized, why let the first give way, I say, and let all give 
way to love, if it be possible to separate joy from it! 
And when love and joy abound in him, let him be 
indulged in his nature’s way of manifesting them, 
even to the interruption of a sermon for a time; and 
if the feeling becomes general among the flock, why, 
let the sermon go; there is no better preaching, at 
times, than the rejoicing together of many happy 


222 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


Christians. These are my crude notions, sister; take 
them for what they are worth.’’ 

thank you for them, my very dear, dear brother, 
and I am sure that they will be of service to me. Oh, 
how much happiness I have lost from your delay in 
embracing Christianity!” 

^‘Not so much, perhaps, from want of my counsels 
and religious opinions, as from want of that deference 
and respect which I should have shown to your piety, 
and that tenderness of address that I should have 
shown to a sister.” 

In the main, things went on smoothly and happily 
in the two families during the vacation, but before its 
close both the Captain and his sister had their quiet a 
little disturbed by Williams’s over attention to Snap- 
dragon. It was a natural curiosity that prompted him 
to enquire carefully into Snap-dragon’s capabilities, 
accomplishments, predilections and tractability. By 
close observation and experiment, he discovered that 
a little needless whipping improved him wonderfully 
(such the difference between a teacher and a disciple). 
It made him move airily, and infused life, grace and 
activity into both his extremities; that he could trot 
eight miles an hour — that he could beat Billy Figg’s 
Nicktail, Billy Pine’s Catham and Bob Maston’s Fly- 
ing Nelly easily; that he stood the firing of a gun on 
him very well; that he could clear a six-rail fence at 
a leap; that by tickling him in a particular way in the 
flank (which he called the ‘^grabble- tickle”) he could 
make him kick amusingly; that by applying the 

grabble- tickle” to his back bone, just behind the 
saddle, he could carry him through a variety of most 
interesting evolutions — tail switching, warping, biting 


MASTER WILLIA3I 3HTTEN. 


223 


(backwards, at nothing), polka dancing and furious 
kicking. One thing he taught him which was per- 
fectly original, and that wtis to stop at the cluck or 
chirp, and go at the word ‘Oro/’’ To teach him all 
these accomplishments William had to devote nearly 
his whole time to him. He had to ride him tar and 
near, and in so doing it was just as well to call and 
S3e all the planters within- seven miles of the village, 
and rest awhile with them, and entertain them with 
all the wonders of Doctor Waddel’s school, as to ride 
that far and return without dismounting. Every 
gathering in the county he was certain to attend; by 
means whereof he had a fine opportunity of studying 
human nature in some of its most interesting aspects. 
He saw how petty elections were conducted — how 
electioneering was carried on — how much rum it took 
to elect a Captain and a Justice of the Peace. He saw 
justice administered by magistrates in their shirt 
sleeves, and heard stiff quarrels between them and the 
sjjitors. He saw card-playing in its most unj) retend- 
ing humility and simplicity, to wit: by a couple of the 
sovereignty^ seated cross-legged on the ground, with a 
dirty cotton handkerchief between them for a table, 
and a half deck of dirtier cards. (Here was the intro- 
duction of squatter sovereignty^^ into the country; 
but who could have supposed that it would ever make 
such a fuss in the world as it has made!) He saw 
cock fights occasionally, dog fights often, and men 
fights regularly — now and then he was entertained 
with a quarter race and a foot race. Upon one occa- 
sion he took up a banter of ‘ Hhe universal world’’ for 
a foot race, by a youth both older and larger than 
himself, and gained the victory handsomely. His 


224 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


competitor said he couldn’t beat him a running he 
could whip him.’ ^ Bill pitched into him/’ as the 
saying is, without a parley, and flogged him beauti- 
fully, and to the delight and admiration of everybody, 
who thought it mean in him to pick a quarrel with a boy 
who had fairly beaten him, just from shame of his defeat. 
These feats gave William great renown in the county. 
Perhaps no youth in the land ever made greater pro- 
gress in ^Hhe study of human nature” than William 
did in the short space of two months. But without 
Snap-dragon where would he have been? Confined 
to the darkness of his own village! And who ever 
heard of any human nature in a village, save at Court 
times, general elections and general parades? The 
Captain often heard of his progress, and often coun- 
seled him. William,” he would say, fear I com- 
mitted a great error in giving you that horse j I am 
sure I did. It was one of the most imprudent acts of 
my life.” 

<< Why, uncle?” 

For many reasons. He takes up all your time. I 
never see a book in your handj you have hardly at- 
tended a religious meeting, esicept on Sunday, since 
the vacation commenced. You are too young to have 
control of a horse. He is a spirited horse, and if not 
managed with care he may break your neck ” 

Uncle, he can’t throw me to save his life.” 

‘^I’mgladto hear that j my main design in giving 
him to you was to make you a good horseman; but he 
may run away with you, carry you under the limb of 
a tree, and knock your brains out. If you will be 
careful with him there is no danger, for I know him to 
be a very gentle horse, though spirited — ^but youths of 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


225 


your age are so thoughtless. I hardly ever see you in 
the day time; where do you keep yourself 
Just riding about in the country, uncle.’’ 

“But sometimes your’e gone the live- long day, and 
surely you are not riding all the time without your 
meals ?” 

“Oh, no, sir! Sometimes I take dinner at Mr. 
Love’s, sometimes at Mr. Tod’s, sometimes at Squire 
Mattox’s, sometimes at Mr. White’s, and Curtis 
King’s ” 

“Why, William, my son, you ought not to visit 
people’s houses in that way — — ” 

“Uncle, they always tell me they are glad to see 
me, and always beg me to come and see them again.” 

“To be sure they do; but because they are kind 
you should not tax their hospitality all the time. At 
times, I am sure you must fall upon them very un- 
seasonably, and give them no little inconvenience. 
AVhen they see you in town here, and ask you to come 
and see them, why, then go; but don’t thrust yourself 
upon them at all hours, uninvited.” 

“I’ll obey you, uncle.” 

Again the Captain would renew his complaint and 
advise: 

“William, your mother is very uneasy about you. 
She says you constantly come home charged with news 
from all the gatherings in the county. Snrely, you 
don’t frequent such places'? What interest can you 
take in them? What do you promise yourself from 
such resorts? I charge you under pain of my sore 
displeasure to abandon them.” 

“I will do so, uncle.” 

William’s victories happened to be reported to the 
o 


226 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


Captain by Mr. Moore in the presence of William, and 
in the way of congratulation to him. 

'^Why, William, exclaimed the Captain, ^48 it 
possible that you have been running foot races and 
fighting ” 

'^Oh, don^t blame him,’’ said Mr. Moore; sup- 
posed you knew all about it, since it is talked about 
everywhere. But don’t blame William, for he never 
did a better thing in all his life, and never will do a 
better while he lives. He was at the Court at old man 
Haralson’s, and there was an uncommonly large gath- 
ering for the occasion. There was a fellow there, a 
forward, noisy chap, named Jake Black, who was cut- 
ting up high shines. He said he could beat anything 
of his weight and inches in the universal world at a 
foot race. can beat you,’ said William. ^Tou!’ 
says Black, ^ I can run round you three times in fifty 
yards and then beat you.’ ^Well,’ says William, 

‘ suppose you try it.’ The match was made up, a hun- 
dred yards was stepped off, and all on the Court 
ground went to see the race. At the word they 
started, and William beat him a clear light of at least 
seven yards. There was a general shout as they came 
in, and' many had something digging to say to Black. 
One told him he oughtn’t to run against anything but 
grub- worms and terrapins. Another told him his belly 
didn’t give his legs fair play. ^Isaw your thighs,’ 
says he, ^ hit your belly every step you made. If you 
can only manage to hook up your belly just three- 
quarters of an inch before you run, so as to give your 
legs full sweep, you’d beat Bill Mitten thirty yards in 
the hundred, I know you would.’ ‘ Oh,’ says a third, 
^his stomach had nothing to do with it — at least it 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


227 


wouldn’t have had, if he had been in good keep; but 
he was in no order to run. I saw him eat two water- 
milUons and a peck of peaches not an hour before the 
race. Take that weight off of him, and where would 
Bill Mitten have been?’ ^Well,’ said the second, 
that’s just what I say. He only lacks three-quarters 
of an inch of beating Hhe universal world;’ I thought 
his belly was naVralP 

“This kind of chat,” continued Moore, “made 
Jake very mad, and as William stood laughing with 
the rest, Jake stepped up to him and said, ^ If you can 
beat me running I can whip you mighty easy.’ You 
know that hard place in the road between old man 
Haralson’s house and the Court room? He was stand- 
ing there, Jand the words was no sooner out of his 
mouth when William seized him, fetched the hip-lock 
upon him, and gave him the hardest fall that I ever 
saw a boy get in all my life. Before Jake could recover 
from his fall, William was on him, giving him bringer* 
He very soon ‘ told the news ’ (cried ‘enough!’), and 
William got off of him without a scratch. I don’t 
suppose there ever was a people more rejoiced and 
surprised than they all were at William’s doings. 
Jake had no idea that a boy dressed a;S fine as William 
was could fight at all, nor did anybody else believe 
it. But, Lord bless your soul. Captain, he walked 
over Jake in the highest style of fighting! I tell you 
what, sir, he’s as active as a cat and as bold as a lion. 
So you see he was not to blame.” 

“And now came the tug of war” (intestine war) 
with the Captain. Before Moore had proceeded four 
sentences in his narrative, Captain Thompson’s coun- 
tenance lost every trace of amazement and indigna- 


228 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


tion, and assumed a rather unchristian placidity. The 
next transition was to a benignant smilej then to an 
expression of wonder and delight, then to a laugh of 
triumph j and so it went on, stronger and stronger, to 
the end of the chapter; so that when Moore concluded 
it was manifest that brother^’ Thompson had no 
more thought of religion in him than he had of the 
tattling of his countenance; and no more thought of 
the tattling of his countenance than if he had been all 
the time in profound sleep. But the time had come 
for him to speak, and what could he say ? Bill had 
followed his counsels to the letter, and had exhibited 
the very fruits from them that he had anticipated and 
desired. Should he now rebuke him? That would 
not do. Should he applaud his conduct ? That would 
not do from a Christian. Should he remain silent? 
That would be a tacit sanction of all that William had 
done. But say something he must, and that something 
must be extemporized; so he began, in a very cool 
tone, that might be taken for the composure of relig- 
ion or the composure of gratification: 

Why, William, Pm astonished at you?’’ 

Very true, but very equivocal. 

don’t think, in any view of the case, that his say- 
ing simply that he could whip you, justified you in 
attacking him ” 

‘^But, uncle, I saw that he was mad, and bent upon 
picking a quarrel with me, or hacking me before all 
the company, and I thought that as I would have to 
fight or back out, I’d best take a running start on him; 
for the first blow in a fight is half the battle, they 
say.” 

^^Well, that is true— that is— arguing ujyon worldly 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


229 


principles ; and supposing fighting in any case to be 
justifiable; for by that course you are certain to get 

some advan . However, worldly principles are 

not always to be trusted; indeed, never to be trusted 
when they come in conflict with religious principles. 
The longer I live in the world, the more dissatisfied I 
become with its ways and notions. Four or five months 
ago I would have given advice that I would not now 
give— at least without very considerable qualifications. 
Vigor of body, strength of constitution, unflinching 
courage — moral courage — are certainly great things — 
great things in many j)oints of view — ^but then, like 
all good gifts, they may be abused. And here, Will- 
iam, let me give you a caution. You have a very good 
apology (our friend Moore thinks) for engaging in 
those contests with Black. Il^^ow, take care that your 
victories over him do not lead you to seek contests 
merely to show your prowess— merely for the praise of 
victory and the terror of your companions. Oh! of 
all the disgusting things in this world, a mere bully — 
a man who forces his fellow being into a fight with 
him merely for the vile fame of whipping him, is the 
most disgusting. I have seen such men, and I have 
despised them. They pretend to take as insults what 
they know was meant in friendship or in fun. 
They wantonly assail feelings, play insufferable pranks 
with men, and then assail them for speaking harshly 
of what they say they meant as innocent sport. They 
take occasion from a man’s dress, his features, his per- 
son, his carriage, to worry him into resistance of some 
kind, and then flog him for resisting. Can anything 
better mark a devil than such conduct as this? Now, 
William, I don’t blame you for fighting (that is, upon 


230 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


worldly principles) under the circumstances j but I do 
blame you for going to such places — not for going to 
Mr. Haralson’s, for he is a very worthy man, and has 
a very worthy family, but for going there in Court 
times. I have been there often and I don’t remember 
ever to have seen one of his sons in the crowd of Court 
days in my life. And I blame you for running a race 
at such a time and place.” 

How if the reader can extract from this long har- 
angue what were the Captain’s views of the case of 
Mitten vs. Black, upon Christian principles, he is cer- 
tainly much wiser than the writer. Whether it was 
becoming in him to discuss the case so generally upon 

worldly principles,^ ^ without drawing a line of dis- 
tinction between them and Christian principles — 
whether it was right in him to say what he would 
have advised four or five months ago, that he would 
not now without any specifications that might enlighten 
his nephew as to whether he meant to take back any 
of his counsels upon universal excellence, are questions 
which we will not undertake to settle. But we will 
venture to say that Master Mitten inferred from it that 
the Captain was highly delighted (Jbut of course only on 
worldly principles) with his achievements, and that he 
need never fear the Captain’s wrath for fighting, pro- 
vided he would always fight at the right time, in the 
right place, and for good reasons in Mr. Moore’s judg- 
ment. 

In the course of his observations Master Mitten dis- 
covered two other things through the aid of Snap- 
dragon, which we must not omit to mention. The one 
was, that six or seven months abstinence from strong 
drink had not entirely abated his relish for itj and 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


231 


the other was that the squatter sovereigns committed 
many errors in their games that he could have rectified 
with success. It was the custom of not a few heads of 
families at this time, to makeup a mint-julep of peach 
or apple brandy every morning, and to give a little to 
every member of the family, old and young, blacks 
excepted. It was a much more invariable custom to 
make a large bowl of egg-nogg every Christmas, of 
which the whole family were expected to take a little 
more freely, and it was considered rather a laughing 
than a serious matter if some of the children got in- 
toxicated. No one ever entered a house to tarry for a 
half hour without being asked ^Ho take something to 
drink, and with the plainer people of the country 
this invitation was extended to boys hardly in their 
teens, and was accepted without exciting any surprise. 
Not many years before ^he times of which we are 
speaking, probably down to the very times, a still 
more remarkable custom prevailed among some, if not 
all Methodist preachers, which was to ask a blessing 
upon every glass of toddy they took. Should this 
statement be questioned, we have authority for it, at 
hand, which no man in Georgia will question. How 
this custom originated it is easy to define. The disci- 
pline of the Methodist Church enjoined upon its mem- 
bers to do nothing upon which they could not invoke 
God^s blessing, and as they never dreamed that there 
was anything sinful in taking a glass of toddy, or as 
it was more commonly called, a little sweetened ' dram j 
they ^^said grace over it.’^ 

While such customs were rife in the country, it is 
not to bo wondered at that Master Mitten had frequent 
opportunities of indulging his early formed relish for 


232 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


ardent spirits, even without the help of Snap-dragon— 
with his help they were quintupled. He, however, 
took care never to appear at home, or in the presence 
of his uncle, disguised with liquor.^ ^ But as the Cap- 
tain saw that he was doing no good, he feared that he 
was doing much harm, and he rejoiced greatly when 
the time arrived for his return to school. A little be- 
fore this time the Captain informed William overnight 
that he wished to borrow Snap-dragon for a short ride 
the next morning, as all his own horses were in use. 
William gave a cordial assent, of course. ^^Send Tom 
over with him directly after breakfast; Tm only going 
to Doctor Wingfield^ s,^’ said the Captain. 

The Captain lived on the street that led directly to 
Doctor Wingfield’s, and near the edge of the town. 
As William had never seen his uncle on Snap-dragon, 
and felt a deep interest in Jiis performance under the 
saddle of his kind benefactor, he took his position in 
the inner lock of a fence in the street, under cover of 
some high weeds, whence, with a little change of pos- 
ition, he could have a full view of the Captain’s house 
and two or three hundred yards of the street and road 
leading from it. Tom got to the house with Snap- 
dragon about the time that William got comfortably 
seated. Snap was soon saddled, and the Captain was 
nearly as soon by his side, ready to mount him. Snap 
showing signs of impatience to get off. What makes 
that horse do so, Tom?” asked the Captain. I don’t 
like his motions.” 

^^He’s gentle, Mas’ David,” said Tom. ^^He only 
do so till you start him.” 

The Captain placed one hand on Snap’s neck and 
the other on the back of the saddle to mount; this hand 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


235 


happened to slip and fall a little rudely on Snap’s back. 
Snap, nothing doubting that that this was the begin- 
ning of the grabble tickle,” commenced with the 
preliminaries of the polka. 

Why, the horse is ruined,” said the Captain. 
wonder he hasn’t knocked William’s brains out long^ 
ago.” 

^^Mas’ David, I tell you the’ an’t nothin’ the matter 
with him. This is nothin’ but some little foolnish 
Mas’ William larn him. He’s gentle.” 

In the meantime Bill was rolling in the weeds 
thused^’^ with delight. 

The Captain made a second attempt and mounted. 

^^Tom, tell your Mistress — Wo!” said he to fidget- 
ing Snap, and away went Snap ^Ho the tune of eight 
miles an hour!” TFb/” repeated the Captain mor& 
emphatically, and Snap put off at half speed, at which 
gait he passed Bill in an agony of laughter. The Cap- 
tain immediately conjectured that Bill had been run- 
ning Snap, and that the horse took for 

and he did not repeat the word again. Snap soon be- 
came pacified, and the Captain brought him to a halt. 
He studied awhile whether it would be best for him to- 
go on or return. He concluded he would try Snap a 
little further anyhow, so he clucked to him to proceed f 
but so far from proceeding. Snap settled himself in 
more dignified composure than he had exhibited dur- 
ing the whole morning. He clucked again with no- 
better success. He chirped, but these changes of note 
operated upon Snap like a serenade. 


*This word, of very modern coinage, is now getting into 
pretty general use in some parts of the country. 


234 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


Why, did ever anybody see such a fool horse since 
the world was made/^ mused the Captain. What^s 
a body to do with him ? How is he to be made to go on 
or stop ? If I ever give another chap a fine horse he 
may give me a thousand lashes, and Til thank him for 
it. It certainly was the unlucJciest act of my life to 
give Bill this horse 

Upon the whole, the Captain concluded it would be 
best for him to get out of temptation as quick as pos- 
sible by returning home. Just as he made up his 
mind to this course, Mr. Foster met him. 

“Good morning, brother Thompson!’^ said Foster. 

“Good morning, brother Foster, said Mr. Thomp- 
son. 

“Which way are you going 

“I was going to Dr. Wingfield’s, but 1’ve.got on my 
nephew’s horse, which the boy has so completely 
spoiled that there is no doing anything with him, so 
ril go back with you.^’ 

All of the proceedings up to this moment convinced 
Snap-dragon that he had been brought out that morn- 
ing for no other purpose in the world than to beat Mr. 
Foster’s horse in a quarter race. His conjectures were 
fully confirmed when in answer to Mr. Foster’s ques- 
tion, “don’t you own him?” the Captain, as he paced 
about, answered emphatically “JVo.'” 

At the word. Snap dashed. The Captain soon took 
him up, and waited till brother Foster came up. As 
he approached, the Captain clucked to Snap, and he 
stopped crustily. 

“Bless your soul, honey,” said brother Foster, 
“that’s a mighty good looking horse, but he’s a 
mighty foolish one.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


235 


was one of the finest horses in the land 

WoP^ cried the Captain (forgetting himself) to Snap, 
in rage to beat Foster’s horse, and away he dashed 
again. He was stopped as before. 

‘^Why, brother Thompson, that horse seems to go 
when he ought to stop, and’ stop when he ought to 
go.’' 

Exactly so,’’ said the Captain j and Snap bristled 
considerably at the last word, but was chirped to halt 
instantly. 

^‘Why, bless your soul, houey, I never did see a 
horse take on after that sort in all my life. I wouldn’t 
give you this pipe for him if I had to ride him.” 

^^Ko,” said the Captain (Snap bristled), ^^nor I 
either.” 

In this way, between stops and starts, and sidles 
and snorts, the Captain reached home greatly to his 
delight, and the still greater delight of William. 

The lecture he gave his nephew at their next meet- 
ing we leave the reader to coniecture. 


236 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


CHAPTEE XVIII. 

When the time came for William Mitten to return 
to school, he begged his uncle to allow him to keep his 
horse at Willington, He thought ‘Hhatif he boarded 
two or three miles from the school house, and rode to 
school and back to his boarding house every day, his 
health would be greatly improved. ^ ’ He said that ^ 4f 
he had a horse to ride to the post office he could get 
and mail letters speedily — that he often wished to go 
and hear Mr. Waddel preach at Eocky Eiver Church; 
but that he had no means of getting there — that it 
would cost nothing hardly to keep a horse at Willing- 
ton. That several times during the Summer he had 
suffered from headache, occasioned by hard study and 
want of exercise, and that unless he could take more 
exercise in the Summer months than he had been tak 
ing, he feared his health would be ruined. That in 
the Winter it was not so bad; for the exercise of get- 
ting wood, and the active plays of the school at this 
season, gave him plenty of exercise; but in warm 
weather he sometimes got so weak that it seemed to 
him he would faint. 

Mrs. Mitten said ^‘that she would cheerfully bear 
the expense of the horse, if her brother would consent 
to William’s keeping him at Willington. That the 
idea of his constitution being shattered by severe 
study was distressing to her. That she had suffered 
no little in mind herself from the difficulty of hearing 
from William often through the mails, and that there 
was something delightful in the thought of her son 
going to sacred service with his preceptor. She could 
conceive of nothing more likely to produce reciprocal 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


237 


endearment between the two than this; but that if 
brother David thought differently she had nothing to 
say.^^ 

William/^ said the Captain, ^^you perplex me not 
a little. The horse is yours, and I do not like to in- 
terfere with your right of property in him; and yet, 
to allow you to take him off to school with you, and 
keep him there, knowing as I do how you have used 
him, seems to me little better than wilfully putting 
your life in jeopardy, encouraging you to idleness, 
pushing you into difficulties with your preceptor, and 
periling all my bright hopes of you at once. What 
could have possessed me to make you such a present as 
that ! Yes, I know what possessed me ; I wished to 
show you my gratification at your progress — to encour- 
age you in your studies ; to prove my affection for 
you ; to give you confidence in my counsels, and to 
give you healthful, agreeable, and useful exercise 

during your vacation. Why didn’t I think to 

reserve the right of taking him back, if you abused 
or misued the gift ! ’’ 

Uncle, you can take him back if you wish to.” 

^^JSTo, I will not do that ; but I’ll tell you what I will 
do ; he cost me one hundred dollars ; now I will give 
you for him one hundred and twenty dollars in any 
l^roperty you will name — but a horse. That sum will 
get you a very pretty little library, that will be of use 
to you through life. Or your mother will add to it, I 
know, a hundred and eighty more, and that will get 
you a nice waiting boy — or anything else that you pre- 
fer. But mind, I do not wish you to make the trade 
merely to gratify me, or merely to appease my anxiety 
or quiet my apprehensions. Act without fear or con- 


238 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


straint in the matter. You will not offend me if you 
reject my offer. 

^‘Why, William/’ said Mrs. Mitten, surely when 
you see your uncle’s solicitude ’’ 

^^Stop, Anna. My solicitude has nothing to do with 
the matter ” 

was only going to call to William’s mind how 
sound your judgment had been in everything touch- 
ing his interest ’’ 

Well, all that at another time. William’s judg- 
ment in this matter is and ought to be his guide. In 
considering my proposition, forget that I am your 
uncle j forget all the good that I have ever done you, 
and decide upon it with perfect freedom of will. I’ll 
put it in the right view before you : Suppose that Mr. 
Cnnningham was to come and make you precisely the 
offer which I make you ; what would you say to it?” 

^^I would refuse it from him ; but ” 

That’s enough, my son ’’ 

^^But, brother, I don’t think that because he would 
refuse the offer from Mr. Cunningham, it follows by 
any means that he would not freely and voluntarily 
accept it from you.’’ 

“No, uncle; Mr. Cunningham has never done me 
the favors that you have ; he’s no relation of mine j I 
do not respect his judgment as I do yours ; and to 
prove what I say, I now tell you that though I never 
was as much attached to anything in all my life as I 
am to Snap-dragon, I freely and voluntarily, and of 
my own judgment alone, accept your proposition, and 
you shall say whether the pay for the horse shall be in 
books or a negro boy.” 

“No, my son ; I admire your kind feelings towards 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


23 ^ 


me j they are a full return for all that I have done for 
you ; but I can’t base a trade upon them. You are 
willing to accommodate me ; but you are not willing 
to part with your horse — though you think you are. 
He is yours, my dear boy, and I will not purchase him 
from you upon any other considerations than those 
which would influence you in a trade with a stran* 
ger.^^ 

“Why, brother, that seems to me a very strange 
refinement. 

“ I don’t think so, sister. Suppose I had opened 
the proposition in this way : ^ William, I regret that I 
gave you that horse. Now, I gave him to you unasked 
for j I am your uncle, who loves you j who has done a 
great deal for you j to whom you owe a large debt of 
gratitude, but for whom you would never have gone 
to Mr. Waddel’s school, and by consequence must have 
lost all the honors you have gained there j in all which, 
as in many other instances, you have seen how much 
better my judgment is as to your true interest, than 
yours ; now, in my judgment, the horse will do you 
more harm than good ; yield, therefore, to my judg- 
ment — return my love and kindness by giving me back 
the horse.’ Would you think all this right?’’ 

“No, certainly ; for that would be just working upon 
the child’s feelings, to get from him his horse for noth- 
ing ; but you propose to give him more than the value^ 
of the horse, and in better property.” 

“Then there is no difference between the case at 
hand and the case put, but in the return that is offered 
to him for the horse. It is right to work on his feel- 
ings in any way I please to get his horse from him, 
provided I give him for him what you and I think a 


^40 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


:fine price ! Is that your doctrine ? Don’t you think 
that William ought to have a will in the matter?’’ 

^^Oh, pshaw! The cases are not all alike. You 
havn’tgone on with all that string of appeals to his 
heart j you would not let me even speak of your better 
judgment ; you forewarned him not to let his decision 
be governed in any way by his relation to you or your 
kindness to him. He’s not a man to judge of priceS; 
n-nd of what will be best for him.” 

^^I^evertheless, he has all the rights of a man in 
trade. It would be very silly in him to refuse five 
thousand for his horse ; but if he chose to do so, I don’t 
think you would force him to take it, and I am sure I 
would not .” 

Well, if he was such a simpleton as to refuse five 
thousand dollars for his horse I don’t know but I would 
force him to take it. I certainly would advise him 
strenuously to take it. But what has all this to do 
with the case ? Have you forced him ?” 

^^Ho, but he is acting upon precisely the feelings 
that my supposed appeals to his sensibilities would 
have produced.” 

And are they not praiseworthy feelings, brother 

Highly praiseworthy, sister! Too praiseworthy 
to be abused j and it would be an abuse of them in me 
to avail myself of them to deprive him of a piece of 
property which he does not wish to part with. And, 
now, my dear boy, I withdraw my proposition ; and 
let it not distress you the least in the world that I have 
done so. Do not suppose that I will blame you or 
harbor any unkind feelings towards you for your reluc- 
ance to part with him ’’ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 241 

uncle, I tell you again, I am willing to part 

with him to you — perfectly willing 

Well, my son, I think the more of you for that ; 
but let us drop the matter. Keep your horse, son, 
but don’t think of taking him to Dr. Waddel’s. I 
have not yet fully made up my mind whether I have 
authority to forbid your so doing. I incline to the 
oi^inion that, standing as I do in the place of a parent 
to you, duty requires me to interdict positively your 
keeping a horse at Willington ] but I hope you will 
not force me to decide that question by attempting to 
take him. I have many things to say against it, but 
let these suffice. You’ve spoiled that horse ; he is dan- 
gerous to others, if not to you. You will have fifty 
students on his back, and some of them may get hurt — 
perhaps killed by him. He will be a useless expense 
to your mother j the Summer months are now gone j 
he will interfere with your studies. Dispatch of let- 
ters between here and Willington is of no consequence, 
and the weather will be too cold for you to go off to 
preaching with Mr. Waddel.” 

^^Kow, brother,” said Mrs. Mitten, don’t under- 
stand me in what I say as interfering in the least with 
your authority over William, or as opposing my judg- 
ment to yours, or as raising the slightest objection to 
your dealing with him in this matter as you think best ; 
but simply as asking an explanation of you. William 
offers you his horse on your own terms. You refuse 
him because he does not offer him from the right mo- 
tives, or the right feelings, or something else that I 
don’t understand, and yet you doubt whether you will 
allow him to use him as he wishes to. How do you 
reconcile these views !” 

p 


1 


242 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


will be time enough to reconcile them when I 
come to act upon them ; but should I deem it my duty 
to forbid his keeping a horse at Willington, I should 
reconcile them just as you would in giving a toy to 
your child, and forbidding him to use it to the annoy- 
ance of your household, or to the injury of himself.^’ 

^^But William is not now a child, and I am sure 
that he would obey your directions strictly in the use 
of him.’’ 

Yes, uncle j you may just lay down the law, and 
I will obey it strictly in everything.” 

^^But I cannot anticipate all the ways in which you 
may^ misuse him. ’ ’ 

Brother, will you take it amiss if I venture a word 
of advice here?” 

“hTo ; by no means. I will always hear your views 
in reference to your child with pleasure ; and what is 
more, I will always take it, if I am not confident that 
it will operate to the prejudice of your son.” 

Well I know that you take a pleasure in indulging 
him in everything you can that you do not think will 
be injurious to him.” 

True !” 

And I am equally sure that William has reaped 
too many benefits from obedience to you ever to diso- 
bey you again in anything. I^'ow, this plan has occur- 
red to me : September, though a Fall month, is always 
a warm, relaxing, sickly month, in this climate j and 
as he has been much on horseback, during the vaca- 
tion, it may injure his health to break off suddenly 
from this exercise, and set himself down to severe 
study. I know that he has made rather a bad use of 
his horse during the vacation, but he can’t do so at 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


243 


school. You have enumerated the evils you apprehend 
from his keeping a horse there, and that will be suffi* 
cient to guard him against them ; for he has told me 
over and over again that he believed he had the best 
uncle in the world ; that you had only to tell him what 
to do, and he would do it if it were to go to the earth^s 
end. Now give him any other orders or cautions about 
the horse that you think proper. Let him keep him 
only while the weather continues warm, and as SQon 
as it turns cool I will send Tom for him and fetch him 
home, if you say so. The short vacation at Christmas 
will soon be here, and if he keeps him till then he can 
ride him home, and save us the trouble of sending for 
him. But no matter for that, if you say send for him 
before, it shall be done. As for the expenses of keep- 
ing the horse, it will cost no more to keep him there than 
here, nor so much ; and there he will be of some use 
and here he will be of none. But the great benefit I 
promise myself from it is William’s delightful improv- 
ing trips with Mr. Waddel to his preaching places.’^ 
William,” said the Captain, retire a little, while 
your mother and I discuss this matter a little farther.’^ 

William retired. 

^^Do you know, Anna,” continued the Captain^ 
^Hhat nothing has fallen from William in three months 
which has pained me, not to say offended me^ so much 
as that Eocky Eiver plea for keeping a horse ? Here 
he has been in the midst of preaching and various reli- 
gious exercises for three or four weeks, and except on 
the Sabbath he has hardly ever darkened a church 
door in the day time, and never at night unless you 
pressed him into your service ; and now all of a sudden 


244 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


he has taken a wonderful yearning to accompany Mr. 
Waddel upon his preaching excursions.’^ 

Brother, I think the day has gone by when Wil- 
liam would deceive ; and I am very happy in having 
it in my power to explain this thing to your satisfac- 
tion. I talked to William about his taking so little 
interest in the meetings, and he said that he wanted 
recreation after his hard study for the long term j that 
he would soon have to renew his studies for ten long 
months, with only two weeks vacation at Christmas, 
and that if he did not improve his health in the vaca. 
tion he would break down j that he had been to preach, 
ing in the country several times when there was preach- 
ing in town because he could take exercise in going 
there. Now, at school the state of things will be just 
reversed. He will be kept constantly employed except 
on Saturdays and Sundays, and he would be desirous 
of exercising on those days and doing good at the 
same time.” 

The Captain looked doubtingly, and said no more 
upon that head ; but he returned from the episode : 

Anna,” said he, am very anxious to accommo- 
date you and William, but I have awful misgivings 
about this horse affair. There is much weight in what 
you have said j but it does not satisfy me. What a 
world of trouble one false step may give a man ! What 
eternal vigilance must a man keep up, both upon him- 
self and his charge, who has the government of boys ! 
Now, if I refuse to comply with your wishes, and by 
any chance in the world William should^happen to get 
sick, you will ascribe it to my needless rigor, and care- 
lessness about his health. I erred in giving him the 
horse, and I am not absolutely certain that after hav- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


245 


iDg given liim I ought to control his use of him, sim- 
ply upon my apprehensions that it will be mischievous. 
Perhaps no evil will grow out of it for one short month, 
or a month and a half at farthest, for surely we shall 
have frost in that time, and by giving William proper 
precautions, it may be that all will turn out well at 
last. You and William will be accommodated, my 
doubts will be removed, (if they can be called doubts) 
about interfering with his right of property in the 
present state of things, and possibly his health may 
be improved, or, at least, preserved by it. Call him 
back and let me give him my charge.^’ 

William came. 

I have concluded, my son, to let you keep your 
horse at Mr. Waddel’s, upon these conditions : You 
are to ride him nowhere but to the school house and 
back to your boarding house, except on Saturdays. On 
those days you are to ride him to no grog shops, gath- 
erings or frolics, nor more than six miles from Wil- 
lington, anywhere, except to Vienna, and there only 
to mail your own letters. Don’t forget this condition. 
You are never to go to Vienna unless you go to mail a let- 
ter of your own, addressed to your mother or myself. All 
your letters to others you must carry to the office when 
you go to mail your letters to one of us. You are not 
to go simply to enquire for letters — enquire for them 
when you go to mail your own. When you go under 
these restrictions, you may, of course, carry letters and 
bring letters for your schoolmates. You a^e not to ride 
your horse at all on the Sabbath, except to accompany 
Mr. Waddel to some preaching appointment. You are 
to loan him to no student. I’ll give you a paper to 
show them that will excuse you to them for not loan- 


246 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


ing your horse to them. When your mother sends for 
your horse you are to give him up without a murmur, 
and if you keep him till Christmas you are to bring 
him home and leave him here.^’ 

William subscribed to the terms cheerfully, and 
showed by his countenance that he suffered no distress 
from his uncles’s over-refinement in trade. 

On the second day of September William and Tom 
took the road to Willi ngton — Tom with saddle-bags 
which bent upwards with stuffing. On reaching Wil- 
lington William selected for his boarding house one of 
the remotest from the school house that he could find, 
with any students in it. It contained two pretty wild 
fellows. A single day here convinced him that he had 
made a great change for the better in boarding houses. 
The eating was better, the sleeping was better than at 
l^ewby’s, and here he understood he would not have to 
cut his own wood and make his own fires, 
r ^^Why didn’t I come here at first,” said he. 

Smith,” said he, ^ ^ does Mr. Waddel ever come round 
here of nights?” 

‘^No,” said Smith ; ‘4t’s too far off for him to come 
hoguing about here of nights ; and if he was to come 
onetime he wouldn’t come again, for I’d make him 
smell the face of a brick-bat.” 

As there were no brick-bats about Willi ngton, we 
infer from this remark that Smith was a city gentle- 
man. 

“And you have no monitor here?” enquired Wil- 
liam. 

“iN’o j” said Jones j “Old Moses is got more sense 
than to make Smith monitor over me or me over him. 
He knows we’d never spunk one another.” • 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


247 


William, was in transports with his new location. 
His appearance at school on horseback created quite a 
sensation among the students, divers of whom got 
spunked ^^for looking at William Mitten’s horse in 
study hours in short, for being idle, but in detail, 
as just stated. As Doctor Waddel was about mount- 
ing old Hector, at twelve o’clock on the second day 
after William’s return, he saw William riding Snap- 
dragon to water, and he joined him. 

“William,” said the Doctor, “ have you quit board- 
ing at Mr. I^'ewby’s?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“I am sorry to hear that. Did Mr. or Mrs. Kewby 
say or do anything to offend you ?” 

“No, sir, but uncle allows me to board where I 
please, and I prefer boarding at Mr. -’s.” 

“Is that your horse?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

The Doctor cleared his throat sadly and propheti- 
cally, and proceeded : 

“ That horse, William, is going to bring you into 
trouble, and I advise you to write to your mother imme- 
diately to send for him and take him away,* and I advise 
you to get back to Mr. Newby’s as soon as possible. 

“I don’t expect to keep him long, Mr. Waddel — 
only till the weather turns cool.” 

“ That may be quite too long. William, I have been 
keeping school many years, and I declare to you, my 
son, that no student under me has ever done anything 
to fill me with such fears, anxieties and griefs as you 
have in these seemingly small piatters of changing 
your boarding house and keeping a horse here. What 
day of the month is this? The fifth, isn’t it?” 


248 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


^‘YeS; sir.” 

Is your name upon either of these beech trees, 
William 

^^Yes, sir.” 

Come show me which.” 

There it is,” said William as they approached a 
beech. 

“Very prettily carved. Do you keep a pocket- 
book, William?” 

^‘Yes, sir.” 

Write down in your pocket-book the year and the 
day of the month in which you and I took our first 
and last look together at your name on that beech.” 

<<Why, Mr. Waddel, I haven’t done anything wrong, 
have I?” 

Nothing morally wrong, my son, nothing morally 
wrong. I have a deep interest in you, William, and 
so has your country. Hundreds will regret to be dis- 
appointed in you. Lay to heart the advice I am about 
to give, and follow it as you respect me, as you love 
your uncle, as you love yourself, as you love your 
mother, as you love your country. Till you send home 
that horse, be more studious than you have ever been, 
more strict in observing the rules of the school, more 
watchful of what you say and do, more careful of 
where you go, than you have ever been. And as soon 
as you dispose of the horse, come back to Mr. New- 
by’s. Mr. ’s is too far for you to walk.” 

^^I’ve paid my board for a quarter.” 

“No matter for that. Get back to Newby’s as soon 
as you can, and I’ll arrange the matter of board with 
Mr. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


249 


‘^Mr. Waddel, X. Jones and Z. Smith board at Mr. 


know they do, but — they keep no horse. Good 
day. Eemember the fifth of September and the beech 
tree!’’ 

William did not move from the spot where Doctor 
Waddel left him for five minutes. He was alarmed, 
he could not tell why. ^‘What,” thought he, “can 
there be in keeping a horse that is so horrible to uncle 
and Mr. Waddel! It’s the strangest thing in the 
world!” 


CHAPTEE XIX. 

It was a common remark of Doctor Waddel’ s, 
“show me a school boy with a horse, dog and gun, 
and I’ll show you a boy who will never come to any- 
thing.” We can look back through the vista of fifty 
years and we cannot point to the man, living or dead, 
whose history disproves the remark. We can point to 
many in verification of it. But Master Mitten had as 
yet only a horse, and at worst, according to Waddel, 
he was only one-third of the way to nothing. Why, 
then, was the Doctor so much afflicted by his horse? 
And why did it distress him so much more to find 

William boarding at Mr. ’s, than Smith and 

Jones? 

He saw at once that William had changed his lodg- 
ing only for the pleasure of riding his horse every day. 
That his horse would necessarily employ much of his 
time that might be much better disposed of, and be 
constantly engaging him in pleasure rides, or vice- 
rides, when he ought to be at his books. He felt 


250 


MASTER WILL1A3I MITTEN. 


almost certain that ere long that horse would bring 
him on the monitor’s bill, and he disliked exceedingly 
to give a promising boy his first whipping, because he 
knew that half the stimulus to close study and good 
order would be taken from him by his first whipping. 
But the great source of the Doctor’s uneasiness was 
his room mates. Jones and Smith were among the 
few students of the Doctor’s school who disliked him, 
and they cordially despised him. And yet, strange as 
it may seem, he had never fiogged either of themj he 
had never said a cross word to either of them. They 
feared whipping, and demeaned themselves well enough 
when at school to keep off the monitor’s bills, and re- 
cited well enough to drag along with their classes. 
Why, then, did they despise him ? 

The reader must ask the Devil to explain that mat- 
ter. We acknowledge our utter in competency to do 
it. Yes, we can go a little way into the explanation 
of it, and as it is one of the paradoxes of human 
nature, the philosophic reader is entitled to all the 
light that we can shed upon it. If it were possible we 
should say that Smith came into the world hating Doc- 
tor Waddel; for he seemed to bring his hatred with 
him to the school. At their very first interview he 
showed palpable signs of it, already up to a red heat. 
I^^ow if it be possible for a rational being to hate furi- 
ously at sight, then Smith’s hatred commenced with 
this interview! But if this be morally impossible, at 
what period of his life can we better place it than at 
his birth ? 

As to Jones, his hatred, though curious, and smoked 
a little with the unnatural, is nevertheless traceable. 
From his introduction to the Doctor to the day of his 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


251 


becoming Smith’s room mate, he seemed rather to like 
the Doctor; but on the evening of that day the most 
wonderful transition of feeling took place in him that 
perhaps ever occurred in the history of mind. As the 
two took their seats at their study table^ Jones ob 
served; Old Moses is a pretty tight old fellow, but 

I can’t help liking him.” ^‘He’s a d -nd old 

tyrant!” said Smith. Whereupon Jones’ countenance 
made proclamation of the workings of his mind in 
this unmistakable language: Why — La me! I never 
thought of that! But it’s so! I see it plain enough 
7iow! What an escape I have made! A little more 
and I might have been precipitated into the bottom- 
less abyss of love!” Jones covered his ignorance and 
weakness in the usual way, by pretending he was in 
fan, and to prove it, fell to cursing the Doctor luxuri- 
ously. The most of their recreation hours of evenings 
were spent in brotherly contests for supremacy in 
hating and abusing their excellent preceptor. Let no 
man say that such cases never occurred. They are to 
be found in every school of a hundred boys in the 
land— not exactly, to be sure, in the features which we 
have given to them, but exactly in substance. Ye 
protestors against the doctrine of native depravity, 
explain this matter, if you please. 

Doctor Waddel knew well the feelings of these 
youths towards him, and their worthlessness of char- 
acter, and he was pleased that they had selected a res- 
idence which cut them off almost entirely from com- 
munication with the other students, save when they 
were under his eye. No wonder that he had most 
gloomy forebodings when he saw a youth of William’s 


252 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


tender age and bright promise placed in daily and 
nightly intercourse with them. 

Young teachers may caution a good, amiable, highly 
gifted boy against associating with a low, vulgar, 
abandoned youth of his school, but an old one never 
does, for the plain reason that ninety-nine in the hun- 
dred good boys, instead of thanking the teacher for 
his kindness, holding his counsels in confidence, and 
improving them, will go right off to the profligate and 
tell him all that his teacher has said about him, render 
him ten times worse than he was before, infuriate his 
parents, and spread the spirit of rebellion through the 
whole school. Well for the kind man if he does not 
get his head cracked by the father, his character 
cracked by the mother, and his chair cracked by his 
patrons or trustees. All this, kind reader, in answer 
to your question, Why did not Dr. Waddel tell the 
boy frankly that Smith and Jones were unfit associates 
for him, and that they would ruin him if he did not 
leave them immediately f ’ Doctor Waddel well knew 
^Hhat there were things,” not only ^4n heaven and 
earth,” but in schools, which never were dreamed 
of” in the world’s philosophy.” We must not, 
however, take leave of Smith and Jones without doing 
them the justice to say that there were two amiable, 
excellent, intelligent men, and as many women of like 
character, whose opinion of them differed toto ccelo 
from ours: these were their fathers and mothers. 

On the evening of the fifth, William Mitten reported 
to Smith and Jones all that had passed between the 
Doctor and himselfj wondering how the Doctor could 
be so much concerned about his horse and his board- 
ing at Newby’s. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


253 


“I understand it/^ said Smith, with expletives 
which we omit, ^^he and Newby are in cahoot He 
knows you’re good pay; and another thing — he wants 
you there near him where he can be poking his grey 
eyes and club nose through the crack of your house, 
at nights, without much trouble. If I stayed there 
and he was to come peeping into my house. I’d take 
a sharp stick and punch out his old peepers. I was 
always taught tg despise eaves-droppers, and so I do.” 

^•Oh, yes,” said William, ^^I see into it. He thinks 
if he can get my horse away from me, rather than 
walk so far to school. I’ll go back to Newby’s; but he 
misses it just as much as if he had burnt his shirt. I 
ain’t going to quit the good eating here, and the good 
sleeping and easy living, and go back there to eating 
and sleeping and working like a nigger, if my horse 
was gone.” 

^‘Bill,” said Jones, “did you ever play cards?” 

“O yes,” said Bill, “many a time.” 

“I wish we had a pack,” said Smith. “We burnt 
up ours at the end of the term; but if you’ll lend me 
your horse Saturday I’ll go to Petersburg and get a 
pack.” 

“Bead that paper,” said William. 

Smith read it. 

“Well, how will your uncle know that you lent 
him?” pursued Smith. 

“But I promised my uncle solemnly to obey his 
orders about the horse, and I hate to violate my word. 
It would distress my mother to death if I was to do so, 
and she find it out.” 

“Well, are you going to use him Saturday?” said 
Jones. “If you ain’t. I’ll tell you how we can fix 


254 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


it elegantly; yon just leave him in the stable and Til 
take him without your lending him.” 

thought I would go next Saturday and Sunday 
with Mr. Waddel, if he goes, to Eocky Eiver Churchy 
I must go one time ” 

Here William’s words were drowned by most ob- 
streperous laughter from his companions. 

^^But hear me, hear me!” continued Bill. ^^Let me 
explain! You see, uncle disliked my bringing my 
horse very much; and after giving him all the reasons 
I could think of to let me bring him, I told him I 
would like sometimes to go with Mr. Waddel to Eocky 
Eiver Church! When I said that, I saw something in 
uncle’s looks which made me believe he thought I was 
telling a lie ” 

^^And who the devil is your uncle?” said Jones. 
“Do you belong to your uncle?” 

“Jones, you musn’t say anything against my uncle. 
He’s one of the best men in the world, and ” 

“Oh, go on Bill; I didn’t mean to say anything 
against your uncle.” 

“Well, as I was saying, I want to go with Doctor 
Waddel one time, and if I can go before I write my 
first letter, and tell ’em of it when I write, it will con- 
vince uncle I told the truth, please mother, and make 
them very willing for me to keep my horse till Christ- 
mas. But if I don’t, my uncle, who watches every- 
thing like a hawk, will have a boy here after my horse 
as soon as the weather turns cool.” 

“Oh, well,” said Jones, “that’s not so bad; but 
take care of old Mose, by the way, or he’ll have you 
back to Newby’s Monday morning to a certainty.” 

“But,” said Smith, “suppose old Wad. does not 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 255 

preach at Eocky Eiver, what will you do with your 
horse Saturday and Sunday?’’ 

shall ride him to Vienna to mail a letter ” 

^ ^That’ll do; when you get to Vienna go over to 
Petersburg and buy a pack of cards.” 

“But my orders are not to ride my horse further 
than Vienna except to preaching.” 

“Well,” said Smith, “you needn’t ride over to 
Petersburg; you can go there afoot.” 

“That’s it,” said Bill, snapping his fingers joy- 
ously. 

The evening passed off with but little study. 

William’s class usually recited to one of the assist- 
ants, but the next morning it was called before Doctor 
Waddel. The Doctor arranged the order of recitation 
so as to throw the last part of the lesson to William. 
He had not been over it, and he bungled shamefully. 

“Why, William,” said the Doctor, “what’s the 
matter with you ? I never knew you to recite so poor 
a lesson. Pm afraid you don’t study at your new 
boarding house as well as you did at your old one.” 

William was excessively mortified, and his class- 
mates no less surprised. 

After the Class retired, William enquired of Doctor 
Waddel whether he preached at Eocky Eiver the next 
Sabbath. 

“JSTo, my son,” said the Doctor, “but I preach there 
the Sabbath after. Why do you ask ? Do you think 
of accompanying me?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“lam very glad to hear that. Now you are going 
to make a good use of your horse. If you never make 
a worse use of him you will do well.” 


256 


MASTER william: MITTEK 


Saturday came, and William, at an early hour after 
breakfast, was off to Vienna to mail a letter. As the 
letter was written only to be mailed, it of course was 
not written in his usual diffuse, florid style j but what 
it lost in beauty, grace and polish, it gained in con- 
ciseness, nerve and point. Here it is: 

Willin’, Sep. 7. 

^^Dear Mother: I just write for fear you will feel 
uneasy if you get no letter from me by this mail. Tom 
can tell you all about me. Delighted with my board- 
ing house — fare much better than New^s. Health 
good. Told Mr. WadT I wished to go to preach’ g 
with him if he went to-day, but he don’t go till next 
Sat’y. Best love to all. 

In haste, your af ’te son, Wm. M.” 

After mailing his letter, he went over to Petersburg 
and bought a pack of cards, a tickler of peach brandy 
and a plug of tobacco. ^^My son,” said the merchant, 
as he handed him the articles, ^Hhese are ugly things 
for such a youth as you are to buy.” 

^^Oh, I don’t buy any of them for myself, I buy 
them for Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones, who live about 
nine miles from here.” 

The merchant knew William at sight as the youth 
who had distinguished himself so much at the exhib- 
ition, and he naturally felt pained to see a boy of his 
talents engaged in such a dangerous traffic. Hence 
his remark, which produced from William one lie and 
two truths in consolidated form. He bought the cards 
for himself, the brandy for Smith, and the tobacco for 
Jones. 

He returned immediately to his residence and spent 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


257 


the afternoon and till twelve at night playing cards 
and drinking peach brandy. The next day he was 
sick. On Monday he went to school, was called again 
to recite to Doctor Waddel, and knew nothing of his 
lesson. It was rarely the case that the Doctor called 
one of the lower classes to recite to him two morning’s 
in succession. 

^^What,’^ said he to William, ^^with all Saturday 
and all Monday morning to get your lesson in, come up 
here and know nothing about it, sir! You don’t study, 
sir!” 

The Doctor enquired of IVir. Dobbins how Smith and 
Jones recited that morning. 

^^They didn’t recite at all,” responded Dobbins. 

Smith said he had been sick from Friday evening till 
Monday morning, and Jones came up with his jaw tied 
up in a handkerchief, and took on as if he was raving 
distracted with the toothache. He disturbed the class 
so that I excused him from attending recitation.” 

Tuesday they all appeared at school, as well pre- 
pared for recitation as usual, but the Doctor heard 
none of them. 

On Wednesday they were not noticed until after 
prayer in the evening. This service over, he hauled 
a tickler out of his pocket, and said : 

William Mitten, come forward.’’ William just 
had strength to step forward, and that was all. 

^^Do you know this tickler, sir?” 

Ye-e-s, sir !” 

Whose is it?” 

^^It’s Smith’s, sir.” 

^^You took it to Petersburg last Saturday, didn’t 
you, sir, and got it filled with peach brandy ? 

Q 


268 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


“Yes, sir.^' 

“Who did you get it for f ’ 

“Smith, sir.’^ 

“Whose pack of cards is this asked the Doctor, 
drawing a pack from his pocket. 

Bill did not require an inspection of it, to give the 
answer : 

“It is mine, sir.’^ 

“ You and Jones and Smith sat up late on Saturday 
night playing cards and drinking peach brandy, didn^t 
you 

“ We— I— Jo— I did, sir.’' 

“ You did, sir. Did you play cards by yourself till 
late at night, and drink all of Smith’s brandy your- 
self?” 

“No, sir; they drank some.” 

“ And did they sit by and help you drink, while you 
played cards by yourself?” 

“No, sir; they played too — some.” 

“Perhaps you nfay think that I got my information 
of your dealings at Petersburg from the merchant who 
sold you the cards, brandy, and a plug of tobacco. I 
have not seen him, and no man in Petersburg or Yienna 
told me a syllable about it. Alexander B. Linton, bring 
me six tough hickories in the morning, suitable to the 
occasion. In the language of Bob Eoper’ s composition, 
^ the apple of discord has been oast in among us, and 
if not speedily snipt in the bud, it will inevitably 
explode and shroud us in the pitchy night of anarchy 
and confusion, and deluge the country wdth fire and 
sword.’ As that apple is as dangerous to schools as it 
is to the cx)untry. I’ll try to nip it in the bud effectu- 
ally, in the morning. You are dismissed,” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


259 


As for Jones and Smith, nobody cared for them, but 
the whole school sympathized with William. They 
laid all his faults to them, (rather more than was due 
to them, by the way,) and rejoiced at the retribution 
that was in reserve for them. Gilbert Hay accompan- 
ied him for about a quarter of a mile on his way to his 
lodgings. To this point they walked hand in hand, 
William leading his horse, and both weeping bitterly. 

Here they stopped, and William broke silence ; 

‘^Gilbert,’’ said he, nothing gave me so much pain 
in leaving Mr. Newby’s as parting with you. How 
happy we were in talking together, working together, 
playing together, and studying together ! I’d give ten 
thousand millions of dollars if I hadn’t left you ” 

Will, come back now.” 

^^It’s too late now— rl’m disgraced, I’m ruined — I 
wish that my horse and Jones and Smith were all tum- 
bled together in the flames of hell 1 Stop, Gilbert ; 

don’t leave me !” 

I will leave you, William, if you talk in that way j 
and, much as I love you, I must drop your acquaint- 
ance, if you use such language.” 

<< Forgive me, Gilbert j I hardly know what Isay. 
You have no idea what I suffer.” 

Why, it’s no killing matter to get whipped by Mr. 
Wad ” 

Whipped! I don’t mind the whipping at all, 
severe as I know it will be. If cutting my legs to the 
bone would just put me back to that happy night I 
spent at your house, I’d take it willingly.” 

^^Then what is it that distresses you so? You are 
not the flrst boy that Mr. Waddel has ever caught 
playing cards and drinking liquor, I know.” 


260 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


If I should tell you, you would never own me as a 
friend or acquaintance again. 

Well, it can’t be worse than 111 think it is, if you 
don’t tell me.” 

“ In less than one short fortnight I have deceived 
the best of mothers, the best of uncles; forsaken you, 
the best of friends; despised the advice of the best of 
teachers; drank, gambled and lied — disgraced myself 
in my class, as you know, and disgraced myself in the 
eyes of all who applauded me at the examination and 

exhibition. They will hear of if- . Why, here’s 

Tom! What’s the matter at home, Tom?” 

^‘Mas’ David is very sick. He thinks he’s going to 
die, and he wants to see you before he dies. Here’s a 
letter from Missis.” 

Lord have mercy upon my poor soul!” half shrieked 
William. 

Can’t I die! Can’t I die! Bead it Gilbert!” 

By the dim twilight he read: 

My Dearest Boy: Two days after you left us your 
uncle was attacked with bilious fever. The attack is 
very severe, but we hope not fatal. Last evening he 
begged that you might be sent for. Come as quick as 
you can, in mercy to your horse. The doctor says 
there is no probability of his dying in four or five 
days, so do not peril the life of your horse in your 
" haste to get here. Your affectionate mother, 

Anna Mitten.” 

^^Oh, Gilbert! Gilbert! . How shall I face a dying 
uncle and an afflicted mother? Show the letter to 
Mr. Waddel. Tell him I thank him for all his kind- 
ness to me— that I never shall forget the beech ” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


261 


^^The beech! What does that mean, William 

^^He knows — he will tell you. Farewell, my dear- 
est, best class mate!’^ 

Gilbert went immediately with the letter to Doctor 
Waddel, and delivered it with William^ s message. 
The Doctor listened, read, and walked the floor in 
great agitation of mind. After a few strides back- 
wards and forwards he spoke: ^^It is awful, awful to 
think of such a star as that being eclipsed just at its 
rising! A breath may change the destiny of a youth 
for time and eternity. If ever there was a boy of 
more brilliant promise than William Mitten, three 
months ago, I don’t think I ever saw him. And where 
is he now ? Why is it that in the contact of virtue 
and vice, vice always gets the advantage — at least with 
the young f’ 

‘^Mr. Waddel, what did William mean by the 
leech 

ril take you to it and explain to-morrow at twelve; 
but I little dreamed that the catastrophe was so near 
at hand! At a proper time I will write to his uncle — 
or mother, to send him back. His heart is in the right 
place still, and he may yet be the pride of his mother, 
the boast of his teacher and the glory of his coun- 
try.” 

^^If you write, Mr. Waddel, tell him I love him yet 
and that the front side of my bed is waiting for him 
yet.” 

William wended his way to his boarding house, 
slowly and sadly. On reaching it, he went in and in- 
formed the landlord of the distressing tidings from 
home, and that he would leave at the dawn in the 
morning. He refused supper, and walked towards the 


262 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 

study, near the steps of which Smith and Jones were 
standing. 

^^Well,’^ said Smith, ^^youVe stayed so long we 
thought you^d run away. You’ve got us into a 
hell of a scrape, and you may well look sheepish.” 

Smith, that boy has just come for me— my uncle’s 
at the point of death ” 

You’re d nd lucky to have a sick uncle just at 

this time.” 

The words were hardly out of his mouth before the 
onset of William’s fight with Black was renewed pre- 
cisely, but not with precisely the same results. In his 
fall, Smith’s head struck the corner of a step, and he 
came senseless to the ground. Jones, supposing that 
he was only a little stunned by the fall, and that he 
would soon rally and give William a tremendous beat- 
ing (just what he desired), did not interpose. Will- 
iam supposed it too (i. e.j that he would soon rise)? 
and he resolved to improve the interim to the best ad- 
vantage. Such language, at such a time, from such a 
character, set his whole soul on fire, and inspired him 
with supernatural strength and inhumanity. He dealt 
blow after blow upon the face, neck and ribs of the 
unresisting Smith, with a force and rapidity that hor- 
rified Jones, and would have astonished anyone. It 
was in vain that Jones cried out, ^^For God’s sake, 
Mitten, stop, he’s dead!” he isn’t dead I’ll kiU 
him,” said Mitten. Eising from the body, he stamped 
Smith in the face with his heavy nail-pegged shoes, 
and was in the act of repeating the injury when the 
landlord and Tom both seized him and forced him into 
the house. As they dragged him away, ^^Stop,’’ said 
he, ‘Get me give Jones a little and then I’tl be satis- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


263 


fied.^^ He was given in charge of Tom, while the 
landlord and Jones took care of Smith. His head was 
cut to the bone, and the wound was clogged up with 
blood and dirt. His face was like nothing human. He 
was washed, undressed and put to bed, but he did not 
recover his senses, though he breathed and his pulse 
beat. There was no physician within miles of the 
place, and the landlord did not suppose it necessary to 
send for one so far off, as he deemed it certain that 
Smith would die or be out of danger before he could 
get there. 

In a half hour’s time William became cool and sur- 
rendered himself to grief again.. A bed was prepared 
for him in the house, his trunk was brought in, he 
washed, changed his bloody clothes for clean ones, 
packed such as he needed in the saddle-bags, sent Tom 
to attend to the horses, and threw himself on the bed 
to wait, in tears, the coming dawn. 

In the meantime Jones and the landlord were at the 
bedside of Smith, in a state of the most intense anx- 
iety. The former was in the deepest agony. He and 
Smith had agreed to run away from school the next 
morning. It was further arranged that Smith should 
give Mitten a sound dressing over-night, because he 
had not managed his purchase in Petersburg with 
sufficient cunning; because he had not extemporized 
lies according to his talents, under Waddel’s examina- 
tion; because he had told the truth where he ought to 
have told lies, and bungled even at the truth, and be- 
cause ^^he wanted whipping anyhow.” There was a 
short debate between them as to which should have 
the pleasure of chastising William. Smith said that 


264 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 

lie was so mucli over Bill’s size and age, that it would 
look a little mean in him to do it. 

^^Now you, Jones,” continued Smith, ^^are just 
about his weight, and you are but a little older than 
he isj if you would fan him out there would be some 
honor in it.” 

^^Oh, I can whip him easy enough,” said Jones, 
^^and will do it if you insist upon it, but he will be 
certain to bung up my face a little at the beginning of 
the fight, for you know he can throw me just as fast 
as I can get up, and I hate to go home with my face 
scratched and bunged up. It will be hard enough for 
me to make peace with old John (his father) anyhow. 
But you can tie him — you can fiog him without a 
scratch, and don’t hurt him much. It would be mean 
in a boy of your size to hurt him muchj just whip a 
little common sense in him.” 

The matter was arranged accordingly^ but instead 
of Smith’s whipping a little common sense into Bill, 
behold Bill had knocked a great deal of very common 
sense out of Smith. 

To run away and leave Smith in his present condi- 
Uon was not to be thought of. To remain with him 
until after prayers the next morning would be certain 
to awaken Doctor Waddel’s curiosity concerning the 
state of his health, as early as old Hector could bring 
him hither; and as his old prejudices had greatly 
strengthened that day, he had no disposition to en- 
counter him anywhere. From what had passed be- 
tween him and Smith, there was a fair implication that 
if Smith did not whip William he would; and though 
Smith might not hold him responsible for the implied 
pledge, he would be very apt to hold him responsible 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


265 


for allowing William to beat him while he was in a 
state of insensibility. William’s retiring remark, too, 
made him feel very uncomfortable; for though he had 
done nothing to incur his wrath but sympathize with 
Smith in everything, and drop one disrespectful re- 
mark about William’s uncle, already atoned for, it 
was plain that William’s mind was not in a condition 
to allow the proper credits in closing up his uncle’s 
claims. He was very certain that William would 
sleep none that night, and if he should conclude to 
come out a little before day and give him a parting 
blessing when all were asleep but the two, it would be 
very ill-timed, to say the least of it. So that, upon 
the whole, none of the household spent a more uncom- 
fortable night of it than poor Jones did. To have got 
rid of the troubles of that single night he would have 
been perfectly willing to have signed a vTitten pledge 
to love “old Moses” all his life, elegantly , and to 
accompany him to Eocky Eiver Church monthly dur- 
ing the term of his pupilage. 

Smith did not come fully to himself until about 
twelve o’clock. When he recovered his mind and saw 
with but one eye (for he could not open the other, and 
one not fully), Jones and the landlord keeping watch 
over him, his shirt all bloody, and found himself in 
pain all over, “Why, what’s the matter with me?” 
muttered he from two hideously swollen lips. 

“Never mind,” said Jones, “lie still and be quiet 
till morning, and we’ll tell you all about it.” 

While Jones was talking. Smith was feeling his face 
and head. 

“Why, how did I get in this fix?” enquired he, 
“I’m in a dreadful fix — my back^ hip, head and face 


266 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


all pain me awfully. Jones, tell me who treated me 
so. Have I been out of my head? What o’clock is 
it?” 

Never mind, Smith — never mind,” said Jones, 
you’ll soon be over it if you’ll be quiet. Lie still till 
morning, and we’ll explain all things to your satisfac. 
tion.” 

Didn’t Mitten clinch me? Did he strike me with 
a stick? He couldn’t ” 

^‘Oh, go to sleep, go to sleep, Smith, and quit talk- 
ing. A bad accident has happened to you, and you 
must be quiet or there’s no telling what’ll come of it.” 

don’t recollect anything after he clinched me j but 
it’s impossible he could have hurt me so bad. Is he 
gone?” 

Yes,” said Jones, ^^he’s gone long ago — he didn’t 
do it — it was an accident, I tell you, and you must be 
quiet and not talk, or you may lose your life.” 

In this way Smith was quieted, dropped to sleep, 
and did not wake until an hour by sun the next morn- 
ing, when William was ten miles on his way home- 
ward. 

By ten o’clock Doctor Waddel was at Mr. ’s. 

The whole matter was explained to him. He told 
Jones to stay with Smith and nurse him until he was 
able to walk to school. Jones did so, but instead of 
walking to school they walked home— or rather walked 
to where they could get horses to ride home. It was 
the Doctor’s habit to follow runaways and bring them 
back, but he was too glad to get rid of these gentle- 
men to do so in this instance. 

William’s purchase in Petersburg soon became the 
town talk, for almost everybody in town knew him as 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


267 


the bright boy of the exhibition, and everybody de- 
plored the indications of ruin that his purchases gave. 
The talk soon spread from Petersburg to Willington, 
and from Willington to Doctor Waddel’s ears. He 
went immediately to Mitten’s room, where he found 
the cards and tickler unconcealed, and surprised Mit- 
ten with them as we have seen. Thus did he possess 
himself of the few facts from which he drew out of 
William all that the trio had done after the cards and 
brandy reached their room! He explained to young 
Hay, according to his promise, William’s reference to 
the beech, the import of which William fully under- 
stood after his disgrace. What a lamentable thing it 
is that there is no way of inducing the young to follow 
the counsels of the old! 

CHAPTER XX. 

Captain Thompson breathed his last but a few 
minutes before William reached his habitation. We 
need hardly say that he died happily — he died trium- 
phantly — not shouting, simply because in his last 
moments he had not strength enough to shout, but 
whispering “Glory, Glory, Glory!” 

William’s entry into the death chamber served but 
to embitter the griefs of all who filled it. A little 
while before Captain Thompson expired, he said; “I 
have been looking anxiously for William — I wished to 
give him my last counsels, as I have given them to 
the older children [his own and his sister’s], but it is 
now too late. Tell him, Anna, my last words to him 
were, ^Love, honor, cherish and obey your motlier.’ ” 
These sentences were uttered amidst rests at every 
three or four words. 


268 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Deep and all-prevailing as was the grief around the 
death bed of the uncle, the entry of the nephew 
startled every one, and nearly overpowered his mother. 
Anguish of mind, loss of sleep, abstinence from food, 
and fatigue from travel, had wrought the greatest 
change in his appearance that perhaps ever had been 
wrought in a youth of his age, unvisited by disease. 
He walked, or rather tottered to the corpse, kissed its 
cold lips, covered his face with his hands, shrieked, 
and sunk to the floor. The doctor, who had not yet 
left the room, raised him up, advised that he be 
removed from the scene of grief to a bed in another 
apartment, and he assisted in effecting what he ad- 
vised. He returned and reported to Mrs. Mitten that 
William needed medical aid, for that he was quite 
unwell. She hastened to his bedside with the physi- 
cian, and found him in a high fever. He was pre- 
scribed for, and carried home as soon as possible. Her 
forebodings of some great calamity had been realized 
in the death of her brother; but she now believed that 
her son would soon follow him, and her agony of soul 
can be better conceived than described. Still she bore 
her afflictions like a Christian, with no other demon- 
strations of grief than streaming eyes, deep-drawn 
sighs, and saddened countenance. 

A few weeks before Captain Thompson’s death, he 
and five or six other gentlemen of the village had, 
upon Mr. Markham’s suggestion, agreed to furnish the 
means for giving John Brown a collegiate education. 
Mr. Markham, after having taught John gratuitously 
from the day that he acquitted himself so creditably 
at the exhibition, set on foot this benevolent enter- 
prise, and was himself the largest contributor to it. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


269 


How the excellent man came to enlist so warmly and 
efficiently in Johffis favor, is worthy of record. A 
short vacation followed the exhibition, and at the 
opening of the term John was missing from school, 
at twelve o’clock Mr. Markham went to his mother’s 
to learn the cause of his absence. He found John 
seated on the door-step, weeping bitterly. 

^^Well, John,” said he, “what’s the matter, son?” 

“Mammy says she can’t send me to school any 
more.” 

“Why, that’s badj but I reckon you wouldn’t study 
much if she was to send you again.” 

“Yes, sir, I would ^ I’d study harder than ever I 
did in all my life. You should never have to whip me 
again as long as you live.” 

“Why, that would be a wonderful improvement, 
John, for I’ve generally had to whip you at least twice 
a week ever since you first came to me.’’ 

“I know that, sir, because I didn’t care about going 
to school at first; but now I want to go to school, and 
if I could go back, you’d never have to whip me again, 
I know you wouldn’t.” 

By this time, Mrs. Brown was at the door. 

“Walk in, Mr. Markham,” said she, “I never did 
see a boy take on so about going to school as John has 
all the morning, in all my born days. ’Twas much as 
I could do to get him off to school before, but now he 
takes on at sitch a rate to go to school that I can’t help 
feeling na’trally right sorry for him.” 

“.Well, why don’t you let him go, Mrs. Brown?” 

“ Well, Mr. Markham, ra’lly the truth is, I an’t able 
to pay his schoolin’. You know mighty well what my 
husband is, and therefore ’taint worth while to be 


270 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


mealy mouthed about itj he jist na^trally drinks up 
e’en about every little that I can rake together, that 
he can lay his hands on. He’s a good hearted, clever, 
hard- working man when he’s sober j but he’s all the 

time drunk ’tan’t worth while for me to be try in’ 

to hide it from you, Mr. Markhamj everybody knows 
it. ’Cept the time Judge Yearly put him in jail for 
gwine into Court drunk as a jurior, he’s hardly drawn 
one sober breath since, and you know, Mr. Markham, 
its mighty hard for one poor lone woman like me to 
get along with three little children, and a drunken 
husband besides. Seems to me sometimes that I should 

na’trally jist give up. And I b’lieve I Oh, yes, I 

know I would— ha’ give up long ago if it hadn’t been 
for your wife, and five or six other good ladies in 
town, who’ve holp me mightily. But after all I could 
do, I couldn’t do more than jist rake up money enough 
to pay for what little schoolin’ I could give him, since 
he’s been to you. I think Johnny would take laming 
mighty well if he had a chance. You know he did 
mighty well at your — at your — show. People took on 
mightily at Johnny’s doins’ that day, and I wish he 
could have a chance to git more laming, but I an t 
able to give it to him — it’s a fact— I an’t able to do it, 
Mr. Markham, and I may as well jist tell the plain, 
naked truth about it.” 

“Well, Mrs. Brown, your’s is really a right hard 
case. How long could you spare John to go to school, 
if it cost you nothing to send him?” 

“Oh, la messy j that would be the onliest thing in 
the world for Johnny. I’d be mighty willin’ for him 
to stay till he gets clean through for my part, and be 
glad of it. It would be a mighty great thing if Johnny 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


271 


could git lamin’ enough to keep a school himself, now 
wouldn’t it, Mr. Markham? You must make a heap 
of money at it, havin’ so many scholars as you always 
have, and gittin’ your money every quarter?” 

“But if I take John to teach him, won’t your hus- 
band take him away from me before he gets through?’^ 

“ Oh, la no! He has nothin’ to do with the children, 
no how, poor drunken creater! Besides, he shouldn’t 
do it.” 

“But how would you prevent him I” 

“I could prevent him easy enough. Do you think 
I’d l^f him, who don’t do a hand’s stirrin’ towards 
feediti’ and clothin’ my children, take one of them 
away from gettin’ lamin’ for nothin’ ? Ko, sir, he’d 
no more dare to do it than he’d put his hand in the 
fire.” 

“Well, Mrs. Brown, if you’ll promise me that you 
won’t take John away till he gets through, and that 
your husband shall^ not. 111 take John, and if he will 
behave himself I’ll make him a great scholar — able to 
keep any sort of a school. I’ll furnish all his books 
for him, and teach him, and it shan’t cost you a cent.’’ 

“Yes, that I do promise for both Behave himself ! 

If he don’t, I reckon you know how to make him j and 
if you can’t, jest send him home to me, and I’ll give 
him such a cawhalloi)in’ that I’ll be bound he’ll never 
misbehave again while his head’s hot, to a man that’s 
done so much for him.” 

“ Well, send him over to school in the morning, and 
we’ll see what we can do for him.” 

While this conversation was in progress John’s eyes 
expanded from a couple of cracks to a couple of pretty 
respectable keyholes, and, at the conclusion of it, he 


272 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


commenced patting his foot and snapping his fingers 
in unspeakable delight. As Mr. Markham was retiring, 
“Stop a little, Mr. Markham,’^ said Mrs. Brown. 

He stopped. 

“Where’s your manners, sir,” continued she to 
John. “ Make a bow to Mr. Markham and thank him 
for what he’s gwine to do for you !” 

John gave Mr. Markham a bow of his own teaching, 
excellent for the stage, but quite too formal for the sig- 
nal of private thanksgiving under Mrs. Brown’s dicta- 
tion. He delivered himself, however, in his own lan- 
guage : 

“Mr. Markham, I’m very much obleeged ” 

“ Obliged, John.” 

Mrs. Brown . — “ What, have you been gwine to school 
all this time and don’t know how to call word’s yet !” 

Mr. MarMiam . — “ John’s is a very common mistake.’’ 

John, conceiving that his bow and his thanks had 
got too far apart, repeated his bow^s before, and com- 
menced again ; 

“Mr. Markham, I’m very much obliged to you for 
your goodness. I always said you was^ 

“ Were, John.” 

“I always said you were the best man I ever seen.” 

Saw, John.” 

Mrs. Brown. — “Why, that boy don’t know no bet- 
ter how to talk than me, who han’t had no schoolin’ at 
all.” 

“Well, never mind, never mind, John,” said Mr. 
Markham, fearing John would go back to his bow and 
begin again. “Your heart’s right my boy, and I’ll 
soon set your tongue right. Mrs. Brown, you’re going 
to see John a big man some of these days.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


273 


So saying, he retired in haste — in Jiastej for two rea- 
sons : the one was, that he might relieve himself from 
the laughter with which he had been filling up from the 
beginning to the end of the interview j and the other 
was, to disembarrass John, who between his correct- 
ions and his mother’s comments, was likely to become 
inextricably bewildered. 

John was the first boy at school the next morning j 
and thenceforward Mr. Markham never had cause to 
correct him, or even to reprove him. He soon became 
one of the best scholars in the school, distinguished 
himself at every examination and exhibition, and in a 
short time became such a popular favorite that when 
Mr. Markham proposed to the citizens to unite in rais- 
ing a fund to give him a liberal education, he had not 
the least difficulty in finding the requisite number of 
contributors. 

Just before Captain Thompson’s last sickness, the 
arrangement had been made for David Thompson, 
George Markham and John Brown, to leave for Prince- 
ton College, New Jersey, on the 10th of the ensuing 
November. Princeton was, at that time, in the South, 
at least, the most renowned College in the Union. 
Captain Thompson appointed Mr. Markham one of the 
executors of his will, and authorized him to appropri- 
ate any sum out of his estate that he might deem neces- 
sary, to the education of John Brown, not exceeding 
one hundred dollars per annum. He also appointed 
Mr. Markham testamentary guardian of his two sons, 
David and George, until the completion of their edu- 
cation j directing that ^4n all matters touching the edu- 
cation of his two sons, should a difference of opinion 


R 


274 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


arise between his wife [his other representative] and 
Mr. Markham, his judgment should be decisive. 

After an illness of two weeks, William Mitten recov- 
ered, and at the end of four, his health was entirely 
restored. About this time, his mother said to him : 

William, isn^t it time for you to think of return- 
ing to Dr. WaddePs 

“Mother,” said he, “lean never go back to Dr. 
WaddePs.” 

“What !” exclaimed she, horror stricken, “Oh, my 
dear departed brother ! Is this affliction to be added 
to the thousand that thy death has cost me?” 

“Ho, mother, if uncle were alive, he never could 
induce me to return to Dr. WaddePs. I feared him, I 
loved him, I adored him, to the day of his death. If 
I could have saved his life by having my right arm 
chopped off I would have done it freely, but uncle could 
never have induced me to go back to Willington.” 

“William, in mercy to me, tell me quickly, why?” 

“Because I have disgraced myself there.” 

Disgraced yourself there ! Oh, how little we poor 
mortals know what to pray for ! Would that you 
had died on the 'bed from which you have just risen ! 
Ho, my heavenly Father, pardon me ! — In disgrace 
you were not fit to die ; in disgrace, you are not fit to 
live. William, let me know the worst — don’t keep me 
a moment longer in suspense, if you have any respect 
for me. I may be able to survive the disclosure, if you 
make it immediately ; I may not b^ able to survive it 
if you keep me a few days in this agony of suspense.” 

“I have lied, I have gambled, I have drank, and 
been detected in all, and exposed before the whole 
school ” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


275 


that all ! Is that the worst 

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the worst; and I don’t know 
what could be worse.” 

“Bad enough — bad, indeed ; but it might have been 
worse. I have nothing to say in defence of these sins ; 
but how did you rush into them so speedily after your 
return ?” 

“ That infern — , that abominable horse !’’ 

“How could he have involved you in this series of 
offences in so short a timef ’ 

William gave his mother a full and truthful account 
of all the difficulties in which his horse had involved 
him. When he had concluded, she resumed : 

“ I was sure that things had been going wrong with 
you, from the brief letter you wrote, and which did not 
reach me until some days after your return. It bore 
the marks of great carelessness and want of feeling.’’ 

“That letter was part of the deceit which I began 
to practice on you and uncle before I left here, and 
which I was carrying on when I was detected by Mr. 
Waddell.” 

“ Well, William, you have learned from short but 
sad experience the consequences of vice ; and now 
abandon it forever. I am under inexpressible obliga- 
tions to Mr. Waddel for his vigilance in arresting you 
in it before it could become a habit with you. And, 
now, my advice to you is, to return to his school, do 
your first works over again, and retrieve your charac- 
ter, as you soon ^il, where you lost it.” 

“No, mother, I cannot go back there; I’d rather 
die than do it.” 

“Well, what will you do, my son. What school 
will you go to?” 


276 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


don’t care about going into any school. If you 
are willing, I will go into a store as a clerk.” 

Mercy on me, William ! Close up all your bright 
prospects — bury your brilliant talents among goods 
and groceries ! l^’o, my son, I never can consent to 
that.” 

Why, ma ; almost all the merchants in town began 
as clerks, and see how rich and respectable they are.” 

^^But Providence has given you talents above this 
calling !” 

^^My talents have done me very little good as yet, 
and I doubt whether they ever will do me any. What 
goodwill Latin and Greek do me? ]S"obody speaks 
Latin and Greek. I don’t see any good in anything 
hardly that we learn at school. I think I had better 
stay here with you, and take care of you, and be try- 
ing to get an honest living, than to be running off to 
school, where I will be constantly under temptations.” 

“Well, my son, there is a good deal of force in your 
remarks. It will cost a hard struggle to give up my 
fond hopes of your future distinction j but I can easily 
reconcile myself to your position in life as a resi)ecta- 
ble wealthy private citizen. It will be a great comfort 
to have you all the time with me. But let us think a 
while longer before we decide upon this matter.” 

While it was held under advisement. Doctor Wad- 
del’s promised letter arrived. After tender expressions 
of condolence with Mrs. Mitten and her brother’s fam- 
ily in their recent bereavement, it continued : 

“But the main object of this letter is to offer your 
son encouragements to return to school. He left here 
under great depression of spirits, and under the im- 
pression that his character was irretrievably lost. No 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


277 


one in tliis vicinity, in or out of the school, thinks so. 
Kow that the story of his misfortunes is fully under- 
stood, every one attributes them to a train of untoward 
circumstances which surrounded him, on his return 
hither, rather than to depravity of heart. Indeed, he 
has some noble traits of character, which almost en- 
tirely concealed his faults from the eyes of the public 
and his school-fellows — I say the public, for though it 
is a very uncommon thing for the public to know or 
notice school boy delinquencies, yet so wide-spread 
was William’s reputation from his performances at our 
last Examination and Exhibition, that every one who ' 
knows him takes an interest in him, and every one, I 
believe, regards him with more of sympathy than cen- 
sure. All would rejoice, I doubt not, to hear of his 
return to the school and his return to his good habits. 
Gilbert Hay, his room-mate and bed-fellow, bids me 
say that he love s him yet, and that the half of his bed is 
still reserved for him ; and the feelings of Gilbert Hay 
towards him, I believe, are the feelings of nine-tenths 
of the school towards him. For myself, I shall give 
him a cordial welcome. 

^^But you will naturally ask, what will be my deal- 
ings with him if he returns ? I answer the question 
very frankly : I shall feel myself bound to correct him, 
though in so doing I shall not forget the many circum- 
stances of extenuation in his case. Had he been guilty 
of but one offence, and that of a venal nature, I should 
freely forgive it, as is my custom with the first offence. 
But he has been guilty of several offences, and though 
none of them are very rare in schools, they are never- 
theless, such as I have never allowed to go unpunished 
in my school, and which I could not allow to escape 


278 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


with impunity, in this instance, without setting a dan- 
gerous precedent as well as showing marked partiality. 
I have reason to believe that William would cheerfully 
submit to the punishment of his faults, even though 
it were much severer than it will be, if that would 
restore him to his lost position ; now, I can hardly 
conceive of anything better calculated to have that 
effect than his volunteering to take the punishment 
which he knows awaits him on his return, when he 
might, perchance, avoid it by abandoning the school. 
But with or without the punishment he has only to be, 
for ten months, what he has been for nearly as many, 
to regain the confidence of everybody. 

‘^Nothing but the peculiarly circumstances of this 
case and the very lively interest which I take in the des- 
tiny of your highly gifted son, could have induced me 
to write a letter so liable to misconstruction as this is. 
But brief as is our acquaintance, I think you will 
credit me when I assure you that my own pecuniary 
interest has had no more to do with it than yours will 
have in deliberating upon its contents. Yerily, the 
loss or gain of a scholar is nothing to 
/^Your sincere friend and 

‘^obedient servant, 

Moses Waddel.^^ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


279 


CHAPTEE XXI. 

So delighted was Mrs. Mitten with the first part of 
Dj:. Waddehs letter that she rushed with it half read 
to her son, and recommenced the reading for his edifi- 
cation and comfort. With the close of almost every 
sentence she would ejaculate, good manP^ 

^^Mow Tcind ‘‘Such a man is a national blessing 
“ Who can help loving himP^ But when she came to 
the whipping part, she was unable to read without 
comments and with becoming composure. Having 
finished the perusal — 

^Well,^^ said she, “upon the whole, it is a sweet 
letter ; but I cannot see the necessity of his whipping 
a boy of your size a month after the offence is commit- 
ted, and when he himself admits that there are so many 
circumstances of extenuation in the case ,• if everybody 
else is ready to forgive and forget, why might not he ? 
But, William, as these are the only terms upon which 
you can get back and save your credit, I think you had 
better go. I will write to Mr. Waddel, informing him 
of your deep contrition, and begging him if he can pos- 
sibly pass over the offence without correction, consist^ 
ently with his sense of duty, to do so ; but if not, then 
in the midst of justice to remember mercy. Surely, 
under all the circumstances of the case, the purposes 
of justice would be as fully answered by two or three 
stripes as by ” 

“ Tivo or three stripes!’^ said Bill, “why, he gives 
double that for simple idleness ; and if he were to let 
me off with two or three stripes I’d bring home the 
marks of them next July. I’d rather take ten such as 
he commonly gives in the Summer time, when the 


280 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


boys wear thin breeches, than three such as he gave one 
boy named Sapling, when he found his legs wrapped 
up with strips of shirt. If I go back and he lets me 
off with less than ten peelers, or fifteen of the common 
sort, I shall think myself lucky.” 

^^Oh, William, you make Mr. Waddel a perfect 
enigma ; how could a man of his kindness of heart be 
so inhuman !” 

He doesn’t think it inhuman to whip students who 
violate his laws j but it is not worth while to talk about 
it, ma, for I’m not going back to Mr. Waddel’ s. Ag 
to the whipping, I shouldn’t mind that so very much 
if I could believe that I would be put back to where I 
was before I committed the effences j but I know that 
that can never be.” 

“ Well, my son, I hardly know what to advise. You 
surely were born under an unlucky star. Always, 
always, there is something which obstructs the way 
which seems best for you to pursue. How unfortunate 
was it that your uncle gave you that horse ! How much 
more unfortunate that you did not accept his offer for 
him before your return to Willing ton ! Oh ! were he 
now in life I would surrender you to his government, 
and never have an opinion of my own upon it duriog 
your minority. But in this single instance of giving 
you the horse — and there he soon saw his error, and 
did all that he could do to correct it — his views have 
always proved right, while mine, however carefully 
taken, invariably turned out unfortunately.” 

‘‘Well, ma, you may console yourself with this 
reflection, that if Uncle David were alive he could not 
force me back to Mr. Waddel’ s. 

“Yes, Willaim, if he were alive and felt convinced 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


281 


that your future destiny hung upon it, you would have 
to go. He would have reasoned with you ; he would 
have persuaded you, at first ; but if he found these 
means unavailing, he would have carried you back to 
school at all hazards. But it is in vain to talk of sup- 
posed cases. I cannot do what he might have done. 
What say you ; will you go back or notf’ 

“ ISTo, ma’am ; never, never, never !’’ 

“ William, my are against your going, but 
my convictions are strong and pungent that you ought 
to go. Something whispers to me that if you go, you 
will be great ) if you do not, you will be ruined. Will 
you submit to Mr. Markham’s advice in the matter?” 

“No, ma ,* I’ve thought the matter all over, and I’ve 
made up my mind, coolly and deliberately, never to 
go back to Mr. Waddel’s.” 

Now the truth of the matter is, that though Master 
Mitten, while suffering the first tortures of his exposed 
guilt and supposed disgrace, would very readily have 
submitted to a severe whipping, to have regained his 
lost ground ; as he became more familiar with his dis- 
grace, it began to set very easily on him, while the 
whipping assumed a new interest in his cogitations, and 
became more and more imposing as the disgrace became 
less and less distressing ; so that when the consultation 
occurred which we have just noticed, the whipping 
crowded clean out of Master Mitten’s mind every other 
consideration. It brought him, therefore, to a very 
decided judgment from which nothing could move him 
which lay within the range of his mother’s devices. 
And yet there was a lady living within three hundred 
yards of Mrs. Mitten’s house, a beneficiary of hers, 
who did not know A from a deer’s track,' who would 


282 


MASTER WILLIAM 3I1TTEN. 


have managed the case to perfection without the help 
of Mr. Markham. That woman was no other than 
Mrs. 2^’ancy Brown, mother of John Brown, surnamed 
Rcetus, which is by interpretation, FinJc-eyed. We opine 
that if Mrs. Brown had been in the place of Mrs. Mit- 
ten, and Master John in the place of Master William, 
she would have given him, the said John, such a ^^ca- 
whallox)ing’^ that Dr. Waddel’s best fifteen’^ would 
have been a Charlotte-russe to it. We have no doubt 
that John would have given his cawhalloping for 
the fifteen, and made one of his best bows to Dr. 
Waddel, to boot. 

Ko alternative was now left to Mrs. Mitten but to 
procure a clerkship for William in some store of the 
village. Two of the merchants, Mr. Sanders and Mr. 
Dillon, had been enquiring for clerks a little while 
before Mrs. Mitten took the rounds in her son’s behalf. 

She went first to Mr. Sanders. 

Mr. Sanders,” said she, don’t you wish to employ 
a clerk in your store f’ 

‘^Yes, madam,” said Mr. Sanders, ^^very much 
indeed.” 

“Well, I would be very glad if you would take my 
son William ” 

“Your son William, Mrs. Mitten! Why, surely you 
are not going to take such a smart boy as that from 
school, to make a clerk of him V ’ 

' “ He has quit school ” 

“Quit school ! Why, how did that happen?” 

“He got dissatisfied, and wished to get into some 
employment, and desires a clerkship ” 

“Dear, dear, dear! How thoughtless boys are! 
Why, Mrs. Mitten, you oughtn’t to allow him to quit 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


283 


school. That boy was cub out for a great man — yes, 
for a very great man ” 

“ Well, Mr. Sanders, his talents will not be in the 
way of your employing him, I hope.’^ 

^^Oh, no, ma’am, no ! I prefer a smart boy to a dull 
one, certainly ; but it does look like such a sacrifice to 
put such a boy as that behind the counter ! If he’s 
determined to quit school he ought, by all means, to 
study law or physic.” 

He’s too young for that.” 

“Oh — ah, yes. He’s too young to go into any sort 
of business. A store, in such a place as this, is a very 
dangerous place for a youth of William’s age. I never 
could forgive myself if I should take him into my 
store at his tender age, and he should turn out badly.’’ 

“But he will be constantly under your eye and mine, 
Mr. Sanders.” 

“Ah, there’s the difficulty, Mrs. Mitten. He will 
not be constantly under my eye. I have long trips to 
make to the North twice a year— repeated trips to 
Augusta and Savannah. But, Mrs. Mitten, if you are 
disposed to risk it, such is my regard for you and your 
family — but he is too young — entirely too young.” 

“ Why, Mr. Sanders, he can’t be younger than young 
Dally was when you first took him ,• and he did well 
while he was with you, and went out of your store to 
preaching.” 

“Yerytrue, very true, Mrs. Mitten. But young 

Dally was the son of a widow and — so is William j 

and thus far the cases are alike. But Mrs. Dally was 
a poor widow, with a number of sons, and you are a 
rich widow with but one son. It was a charity (some- 
what) to take her son, but it would be no charity to 


284 


MA8TER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


take yours. And, you see, moreover, besides, Mrs. 
Mitten, you would never be satisfied with the wages 

for William that I gave young Dally ” 

don’t care, Mr. Sanders, if you give him no wages 
at all 

^^Oh, bless my soul, Mrs. Mitten, that would never 
do ! I couldn’t think of taking your boy for nothing.” 

Well, just give him what you think proper. It is 
not for the pay that I wish to put him under you, but 
simply to acquaint himself with the mercantile busi- 
ness. I will board him and clothe him myself, and if 
you choose to give him anything, very well, it will go to 
him, and he won’t care whether it is much or little.” 

“Ah, there you are mistaken, Mrs. Mitten. William 
would never be satisfied to see other boys in town, not 
half as smart as he is, getting two or three times as 
much as he gets — and I shouldn’t blame him at all. 
Besides, I can’t think of fixing his wages myself. If I 
take him, it must be under contract with you, in which 
his wages must be. settled to our mutual satisfaction. 
William must have nothing to do with it. Now, what 
would you be willing to take for his services?” 

“Why, bless my soul, Mr. Sanders, I know nothing 
about such matters. I’m willing to take anything you 
choose to give.” 

Mr. Sanders looked down, scratched his head, and 
said, rather to himself than to Mrs. Mitten — 

“How shall we fix this thing. I dislike very much 
that any obstacle should stand in the way of my get- 
ting the services of such a brilliant youth as ho is. 
But, stop, stop, stop. Does William understand Arith- 
metic pretty well? If he doesn’t, you know it would 
be impossible for me to employ him.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


285 


presume lie does j lie was considered very smart 
at figures by bis teachers here. 

Well, if that’s the case, I reckon we shall be ena- 
bled to get along. Send him to-morrow morning, Mrs. 
Mitten, at nine o’ clock precisely, and I will try him a 
little at figures, and if he does well, why, then, that 
will take away the only insuperable obstacle to em- 
ploying him.” 

Mrs. Mitten promised to send William over at the 
appointed time, and retired. 

The Mr. Sanders of whom we have been speaking 
was Mr. D. Sanders, who was doing business with his 
brother, Mr. B. Sanders, under the copartnership name 
of D. &. B. Sanders. The last named, however, was 
little more than a dormant partner. 

The conversation just detailed was hardly ended be- 
fore it reached Mr. Dillon’s ears, who, at precisely nine 
o’clock the next morning closed doors and absquatu- 
lated , as Billy Munford would say, alias vamoosed,^ ^ 
alias was talcen with a getting away.^^ 

William was prompt to Mr. Sanders’ appointed hour. 

Well, William,’’ said Mr. Sanders, “your mother 
tells me you are going to quit school and take to clerk- 
ing. Is it so f’ 

“Yes, sir, I am bent upon that.” 

“Dear me, dear me, what a pity ! Why, William, 
you were cut out for something greater than a counter- 
hopper. I earnestly advise you, my son, to go on and 
finish your education. Everybody says that if you 
only take the right turn you will be one of the great- 
est men that Georgia ever produced. Now, are you 
going to disappoint us all ? I want a clerk badly, but 
I had rather do without a clerk a twelvemonth than 


286 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


be the means of turning you aside from the glory which 
is before you, if you only improve your talents in the 
right way. So reluctant am I to offering you any 
encouragement to give up your fine prospects, that I 
am really afraid your mother took up the idea that I 
didn’t wish to employ you. Now, William, take an 
old man’s advice ; return to school, complete your 
education, study law, be studious, be moral, and by 
and by you’ll never get done thanking me for stop- 
ping you in the course you are now pursuing.’' 

^^Mr. Sanders,” said William, ‘^IVe heard my tal- 
ents spoken of and praised ever since I was a child, 
and instead of doing me any good, they have done me 
nothing but harm ” 

‘‘Oh, my son, the time hasn’t come yet for you to 
reap the benefits of your talents. Look at lawyer 

M , and lawyer 0 , and lawyer J , who had 

nothing to depend upon but their talents j where are 
they now ? All on the high road to fortune and to fame ! 
Now I don’t believe either of them had as bright tal- 
ents as you have.” 

Just here Mr. B. Sanders, who was rarely seen about 
the store, rode up, dismounted, and walked into the 
counting-room. 

“My mind is made up, Mr. Sanders,” said William, 
“and if you will not employ me, I must seek a place 
elsewhere.” 

“Well, if you are determined to go into a store — 
which store would you prefer f’ 

“ I prefer yours ^greatly to any^ store in town.” 

“Well, however desirous I may be to employ you, 
you know yourself, my son, that I can’t do it unless 
you understand figures pretty well.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


287 


course not,^^ said William. 

Well, here take the slate and pencil, and let me 
try you a little. How much will five and a half yards 
of cloth come to at five and half dollars a yard.^^ 

The cxuestion was no sooner asked than William an- 
swered it by his head without touching pencil to slate. 
Mr. Sanders took the slate, ciphered it up, found the 
answer correct, rubbed out his calculation, and returned 
the slate to William, saying — 

^Wery well done, my son; but that’s head-work, 
and it won’t do to keei^ merchants’ accounts by the 
head ; do it on the- slate.” 

William did it on the slate in less time than Mr. 
Sanders did it. 

^Wery well. How much ^ill eighteen pounds and 
three-quarters of sugar come to at eighteen and three- 
quarter cents a pound f ’ 

William gave the answer promptly, not by his head 
but according to Pike. 

“ Yery well, William ! Very promptlj^ and quickly 
done ! How much will five- eighths of a yard of cloth 
come to at five-eighths of a dollar a yard !” 

William soon presented the answer. 

“ It isn’t right, my son,” said Mr. Sanders. 

William reviewed it. 

Yes, it is right, Mr. Sanders,” said William. 

Sanders looked over it again and acknowledged his 
error. 

^^Well, William,” said Mr. Sanders, “I will put a 
few more questions to you and then release you. How 
much will seven and a quarter yards of cloth come to 
at one pound seven shillings and sixpence ha’penny 
a yardf ’ 


288 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


William gave the answer correctly. 

“ Well; let me try you a little at interest.’’ He put 
down upon the slate “$667i,” and handed it to Wil- 
liam. There,” said he, ‘^give me the interest on 
that sum for a month and a half, at eight per cent.” 

William took the slate, placed a dot to the right of 
the first figure and handed it back, saying, There’s 
the answer, sir — six dollars sixty -seven and a quarter 
cents.” 

Mr. Sanders went over the sum in the common way, 
while William stood chuckling. When he brought out 
the result just as William had it, he looked at him 
with perfect amazement. 

^^Well, William,” said he, I believe you are the 
smartest boy at figures that I ever saw in all my life.” 

Here Mr. B. Sanders stepped in. 

“Why, brother,” said he, have you turned school 
master?” 

“]l^o,” said Mr. D., “ I was trying William on arith- 
metic, to see if he would answer for a clerk for us.’’ 

“Why, I’ve engaged a clerk,” said Mr. B. Sanders. 

“You have !” said Mr. D., “who is it ?’’ 

“John Dally, brother of our old clerk.” 

“ Why, brother, there never was a Dally to com- 
pare with William Mitten at figures ! I verily believe 
he is better than both of us put together. Couldn’t 
you get off from your engagement with Mrs. Dally, so 
that we may employ William ? 

“I suppose I could, if I were to ask her to let me 
off, but that’s not my way of dealing.” 

^‘Well, William,” said Mr. D. Sanders, “you see 
how it is — we shall have to give you up. Tell your 
mother that I was not only satisfied with your knowl- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


289 


ledge of arithmetic, but that I was delighted with it — 
amazed at it ; but that my brother, knowing that we 
wanted a clerk, had employed one.’^ , 

William went home and related all that had passed 
between him and Mr. D. Sanders. 

^^Well, was there ever such an unlucky mortal 
born, William, as you are said Mrs. Mitten. ^‘It 
seems almost supernatural.’^ 

'On Mr. Dillon’s return home, which was two days 
and a half after his absquatulatiouj^^ Mrs. Mitten 
waited on him to know if he would not employ her 
son. But Mr. ‘Dillon had just engaged a young man, 
who had been highly recommended to him. 

Mrs. Mitten now made application to every other 
merchant in town, but they were all supplied with 
clerks j they all spoke, however, in the highest terms 
of William’s talents. 

^^And what will you do now, my son,’’ said she. 
seeing your favorite plan is broken up?” 

really don’t know, mother j I am at the end of 
my row.” 

Mr. Markham, hearing of her disappointment, 
called upon Mrs. Mitten and proposed to her to let 
William go on with his cousin David, George Mark- 
ham, and John Brown, and fit himself for college 
under Doctor Finley, a celebrated teacher at Baskin 
Bidge, Bew Jersey. ^^If,” said Mr. Markham, 
William will apply himself closely to the study of 
Greek and Mathematics, (the only studies in which he 
is deficient,) he will be able to enter the Freshman 
class in six months with ease, I am certai^.” 

The proposition was readily embraced by both the 
mother and the sonj and while she'commenced his 
S 


290 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 

outfit for the journey, he commenced the study of 
Greek assiduously. 

OHAPTEE XXII. 

About nine days before the time appointed for 
Masters Thompson, Markham, Brown, and Mitten to 
leave for the Xorth, Mr. Beach, a celebrated manufac* 
turer of vehicles, in Newark, New Jersey, came to the 
village, on a collecting tour through the State of Geor- 
gia. He was well known to Mr. B. Sanders, who sug- 
gested to him that the four youths just mentioned 
were about leaving for his State, and that he would 
confer a very great favor on their parents, by taking 
charge of them, at least as far as his residence. Mr. 
Beach very cheerfully and kindly offered to do so, 
provided they could delay their departure until the 
fifteenth of the month, and meet him at Augusta on 
that date. Mr. Sanders sent for Mr. Markham, intro- 
duced him to Mr. Beach, and the arrangement was 
made to suit the convenience of the latter. On the 
fourteenth, Mr. Markham was in Augusta with the 
four youths, where he found Mr. Beach ready to take 
charge of them. They were placed under his care, 
and left with him for Jersey, via Savannah, the next 
morning. On the evening before their departure, 
Mr. Markham addres£e 1 the four as follows : 

^^I cannot part with you my young friends, perhaps 
forever, without giving you the benefit of my experi- 
ence and observation in the way of counsel. Bear 
with me if I occasionally play the woman in deliver- 
ing it, for I, speak from a heavy heart. Was ever 
man placed in precisely the relation which I sustain 
to you all? I can with truth say, that I never felt 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


291 


the delicacy and responsibilities of it, in all their 
force, until this moment. When I left college, I had 
no higher ambition than to be a good and a useful 
man ; and I saw no better way of attaining these ends 
than by devoting myself to the instruction of youth. 
I determined to engage in this vocation — greatly to 
the disappointment and mortification of my only sur- 
viving parent, who, mother-like, far over-estimated 
my gifts and attainments, and regarded them as cer- 
tain passports to high political or judicial distinction, 
while in consonance with a miserably perverted pub- 
lic opinion of that day, (not yet entirely reformed,) 
she esteemed the calling of the ^School Master’ as 
hardly respectable. I saw the importance of it, and 
the bitter fruits of this debasement of public opinion, 
(that it was throwing the sacred business of instruc- 
tion into the hands of the worst of characters) and I 
determined that, to the extent of my ability, I would 
elevate the character of the teacher and rectify the 
popular error. I opened my school at first in this 
place, and afterwards in the village where I now 
reside. I soon acquired the confidence of the villagers 
— at least of all whose confidence was worth having. 
I appreciated it highly, and studied to retain and 
strengthen it by a faithful discharge of my duty as an 
instructor, and the performance of good offices as a 
man. The consequence has been, that trust after 
trust has been devolved upon me through a long series 
of years. I accepted them simply on the score of 
friendship, benevolence or humanity, thinking nothing 
of the responsibilities attached to them, until I found 
myself occupying the place of a parent to four youths 
of fair promise, of different means, tempers and dis- 


292 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


positions, at the most critical period of life, on the 
eve of their departure from the parental roof, for two, 
three or more years. Yerily, my position is an un- 
enviable one ; but it will be a source of future rejoic- 
ing to us all, if you choose to make it such. That 
you may make it such, listen to the last counsels that 
I expect ever to give you ; remembering that there 
are others much more deeply interested in your 
observance of them, (with but one exception) than I 
am. 

Hitherto you have had wiser heads to shape your 
course, to correct your errors, to check your wander- 
ings, and to guard your morals, than your own. 
From to-morrow you must be thrown mainly upon 
your own resources, and that too amidst scenes of 
novelty, temptation and trial, to which you are en- 
tire strangers. Fortunately for me, and more fortu- 
nately for you if you will be advised, I am enabled to 
anticipate the more serious evils to which you will be 
exposed during your sojourn abroad, and to fortify 
you against them. Come safely through these, and 
your character will survive all others, though it may 
be smartly chafed by them. To these, however, I 
shall not confine my counsels, for my purpose is, not 
simply to save you from ruin, but to exalt you to 
honorable distinction. 

begin with your duty to Mr. Beach, who has 
laid us all under obligations to him which we can 
never repay. He has kindly promised to take you to 
his house upon reaching Newark, to retain you there 
for two days, until he can dispose of a little pressing 
business, then to accompany you to New York, and 
devote two more days to showing you the city and as 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


293 


many of its curiosities as can be seen in so short a 
time, and then to see you all to your destination. 

Kow, whether we are indebted to his native good- 
ness of heart for these unusual and unlooked for kind- 
nesses, or to his friendship for Mr. Sanders, they cer- 
tainly demand your profoundest respect and your 
warmest feelings of gratitude. Let him see that you 
are sensible of them. In your intercourse with him 
be modest but not bashful ; easy, but not forward j 
familiar, but not pert j and at all times and under all 
circumstances, show him the most marked deference 
and respect. When he speaks, give him your atten- 
tion. Arrest always your conversation with each 
other, to hear what he has to say. Should he use an 
ungrammatical expression, or betray ignorance of any 
of the very few things which you know, you are not 
to evince by word, smile, or interchange of look, that 
you notiC3 or know of his defects. Anticipate his 
wishes, and relieve him of the burden of you as much 
as possible. Take care of your own trunks and of 
his, (if he will allow you to do so) under his direction. 
Whatever opinions he may advance, you are not to 
object to them ; much less are you to debate them 
with him. These rules should be observed in your 
intercourse with your elders generally, more especially 
are they to be observed in your intercourse with a 
benefactor. 

In the course of your travels, you will sooner or 
later be thrown in company with every variety of 
character ; the grave, the scientific, the facetious, the 
ignorant, the profane, the vile. Be not forward in 
obtruding yourselves upon the notice of either class. 
A modest and diffident approach to men of rank and 


294 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


learning, you may make, with propriety and improve- 
ment j but take care to let them always lead in the 
conversation j and as soon as they turn their attention 
from you to another, cease to be talkers, and become 
listeners. Let others entertain the wit, not you. To 
the ignorant be charitable, not rude. Ignorance is 
no crime. Show no countenance to the vulgar and 
the profane. I do not say that it is your province to 
rebuke them j but it is your duty to yourselves to ex- 
hibit no signs of approbation to anything that falls 
from the lips of such characters. And do not suppose 
that you will gain credit for purity of heart, by simply 
abstaining from vulgarity of lip yourselves. Let me 
see how you receive it from the lips of others, and I 
will tell you exactly how far you differ from them in 
moral character. Does it absorb your attention. 
Does it excite a smile ? Does it raise no blush upon 
your cheek % Does it receive from you an impulsive 
hint? You are no better at heart than the retailer of 
it. The only difference between you is, that you are 
a little more prudent than he is, in your choice of 
times and places of relieving your hearts from this 
moral feculence. 

^^Do not allow yourselves to contract the habit of 
profane swearing. Aside from its sinfulness, it should 
be eschewed by every man who desires to become 
fascinating in conversation, or renowned in elocution. 
I never saw the very profane swearer, who was a very 
eloquent extemporaneous speaker. The reason is 
plain ; such an one, always accustomed to filling up 
his sentences with oaths, cannot command the appro- 
priate terms to supply their places when they are 
rejected. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


295 


^^"When you enter college, you will be presented 
with a copy of its laws ; read them attentively, and 
resolve to obey them. Indeed, you will be required 
to sign a written pledge to do so. A word upon this 
pledge: It is called the matriculation pledge, and 
imports the formal admission of the student into the 
Institution. How it comes to pass I know not, but 
so it is, that not one in twenty students regard this 
solemnly recorded vow as of any force whatever. A 
large majority do not violate it — at least in any 
important particulars — but whether their conformity 
to it is from respect to it, or a proper sense of its 
obligations, is very questionable. It is certain, that 
in the four years in which I was in college, I never 
heard it adverted to as a ground of obedience to the 
rules of the Institution. One day, a very grave, pious 
student said to a rather wild one, in my presence. 
How does it happen that so many students treat the 
matriculation pledge as a nullity f ^Oh,’ said the 
other, ^when I took the pledge, I understood it to 
mean that I would keep the law, or endure the penal- 
ty^ (!) I see you all smile at this stupendous discov- 
ery in moral philosophy, and well you may. If every 
official oath, and every private promise were to be 
interpreted in this way, no government could last a 
year, and every ligament that binds man to man 
would be severed in less time. Officers might do as 
they please, and ^endure the penalty!^ Husbands 
might forsake their wives, and wives their husbands, 
and ^endure the penalty !’ I might desert you here, 
and take your funds to myself, and ^ endure the penal- 
ty Mr. Beach may desert you in Savannah or IN’ew 
York, and ^ endure the penalty !’ But I forget myself — 


296 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


you see the absurdity of this doctrine as plainly as 
I do. If you mean to disregard your matriculation 
pledge, tell me so now, that I may save you from the 
sin of taking it. If you mean to keep it, all further 
counsels from me would seem unnecessary. ]l!lot, so, 
however : nine-tenths of those who take it, mean at 
the time to keep it ; but from temptation, want of 
caution, or some other cause, they violate it ; and then 
they think one violation as bad as a thousand, and 
become desperate, or quiet their consciences with 
some such miserable appliance as that to which we 
have just adverted. Now, this is all wrong. One 
breach of duty can never justify another j and there 
is almost as wide a difference between a deliberate 
fault, and one committed under severe temptation, as 
there is between innocence and guilt. If, therefore, 
you should be betrayed into a breach of your pledge, 
do not consider yourselves as released from it, but as 
instructively admonished to guard with quickened 
vigilance against the associations or train of events 
that led you into it. 

But, my young friends, there is a condition attached 
to that pledge — an implied one, to be sure, but none 
the less obligatory on that account — which professors 
are apt to forget j but students, never : It is, that the 
members of the faculty discharge their duties faith- 
fully to the students. And here is the prolific source 
of many difficulties in colleges. One duty of the fac- 
ulty students always see very clearly ; and that is, that 
every member of the faculty is bound to treat them 
with tenderness, courtesy and respect, and this duty 
they not only exact with unreasonable rigor, but treat 
a breach of it in the most unreasonable manner that 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


297 


human ingenuity could devise. They hold the pro- 
fessor bound to this duty, no matter how they may 
treat him. This is bad enough, but their mode of 
dealing with the offending professor is ten thousand 
times worse. The injured party, instead of mildly 
and calmly laying his grievances before the professor^ 
and asking an explanation of him, which in ninety-nine 
cases out of a hundred would produce a reconciliation, 
spreads his grievances through the college. His class 
(perhaps two or three classes,) espouse his cause, visit 
the professor with every species of insult and indig- 
nity, set all the laws of the institution at defiance, 
rage like the Bacchantes of old, get themselves expell- 
ed by the dozen and suspended by the score, and then 
come to order. 

There was but one row of this kind while I was in 
college ; and though I really sympathized with the 
student whose wrongs produced it, I took no part in it, 
because I could not see what good end was to be 
accomplished by it. And had I not seen such things 
with my own eyes, I could not have believed it pos- 
sible that any human being out of Bedlam could act 
in this way. I was blamed for my neutrality while 
the uproar was in progress, but never afterwards. 
Now, should either of you feel yourselves aggrieved 
by anything said or done by any member of the facul- 
ty, after allowing cooling time for yourself and him, go 
to him and lay the grounds of your complaint before 
him privately and temperately. If he does not give 
you satisfaction, appeal in like manner to the faculty. 
If they give you no redress, appeal to the trustees ,* 
and if they give you no redress, appeal to me, and, if 
your cause be just, I will procure for you an honorable 


298 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


dismission, and remove you from tlie college. This 
course will be much more creditable and profitable to 
you, than to tax the friendship of your fellow-students 
with your vindication, when it is impossible that they 
can gain anything by it, and certain that they will 
lose incalculably. All this upon the supposition that 
you are actually maltreated by a professor without 
any fault on your part — a case which hardly ever 
occurs. Take care that you do not construe the duty 
of a professor into a fault. The laws will show you 
what he is bound to do ,• and all that he does in obedi- 
ence to the laws, do you submit to without murmurs 
or complaint. It is no ground of objection to him 
that other professors are more remiss in the discharge 
of their duties than he is. The comparison between 
him and them will be altogether in their favor while 
you are in college, but altogether in his when you 
come out of it, especially if you ever become the trus- 
tee of a college. 

^^The greatest danger to which you will be exposed? 
is from the shocking system of ethics which prevails 
in colleges. It is admitted on all hands, that a stu- 
dent should not become a voluntary informer against 
his fellow-students. But even to this rule there ought 
to be some exceptions ; and the exceptions should 
cover all cases where the information is given from a 
principle of benevolence to the students themselves, 
and there is no other means of securing the end in 
view but by information lodged with authorities of 
the college, or of the State. A student, for instance, 
knows of a contemplated duel between two of his fel- 
low-students ; he uses his best exertions to stop it, but 
fails j is he to be branded with the infamy of a com- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


299 


mon informer, because he puts the faculty in posses- 
sion of the fact ? Surely not. A fortiori^ where the 
intended crime would produce irreparable injury to a 
person, and subject the student himself to the pain of 
death, as murder, arson, treason, and the like. True, 
none of these crimes but the first mentioned (the duel,) 
are likely to ever occur in a college 5 but should they 
occur, it is very doubtful whether the informer would 
find any quarter among his college companions. 

^^But let us come to a case very likely to occur. It 
is a rule in some colleges, (in most of them, I believe,) 
that if a student is charged with an offence, and 
another is called on to testify in his case, and refuse, 
he shall be dismissed. Every student who enters the 
college pledges himself to keep this law ; and yet, in 
the judgment of seven-tenths of the students, it is 
considered basely dishonorable to testify, if his testi- 
mony would prove the guilt of the accused ! The 
culprit himself has not the magnanimity to confess 
his guilt, and save his innocent friends from punish- 
ment, but, shielded by this miserable abortion of col- 
lege comity, he avoids detection, sees them disgraced, 
driven off and robbed of man^s richest boon, (a liberal 
education,) while he quietly retains his place, and 
ultimately pockets his parchment ! And yet, black, 
rotten and foetid as he is, some of the unimplicated 
congratulate him on his escape, and many of them 
hold fellow-ship with him, not only without nausea, 
but with an agreeable relish ! ! The dirty lump of 
humanity should be turned over to the scavenger, by 
the unanimous verdict of the college, and pitched 
into the remotest sewer from it. l!^’ow this case has 
actually happened, and it may happen again while 


300 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


you are in college. If so, and you are cognizant of 
the offence, (not a participant in it,) and summoned as 
a witness against an offender, go to him and tell him 
to confess his fault, or you will become a witness 
against him. If thus forewarned, he refuses to confess, 
testify against him. His friendhip is not worth hav- 
ing, nor is the friendship of a legion of students, who 
would cut your acquaintance for so doing. I know 
it is hard to bear the derision and contempt of your 
college companions j but bear that, or even martyr- 
dom, rather than forfeit your word, incur disgrace, 
be driven from the walks of science, and have your 
fairest prospects blighted, to favor a villain. 

^^That students should suffer themselves to be 
punished, in order to conceal the guilt of an offender 
too vile to own his guilt — that a rule should obtain 
among them, which makes it better to be a culprit 
than a witness, safer to sin than to see it, more honor- 
able to profit by magnanimity than to practice it, and 
more graceful in the malefactor to divide his respon- 
sibilities among his friends than to bear them him- 
self — is marvelous indeed. But the wonders of col- 
lege ethics do not stop here. Another principle of 
the school is, that no member of the fraternity is 
to exculpate himself from a crime committed by one 
of his fellows ; because, forsooth, if all who are inno- 
cent, avow their innocence, the guilty one must be 
discovered if he be a man of truth ! By the law of 
all colleges, I believe, if a student stands mute when 
questioned as to his participation in an offence, he is 
to be regarded as the perpetrator of it, and to be visi- 
ted accordiugly. Students, innocent students, stand 
mute and endure the penalty ! They virtually acknow- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


301 


ledge a fault, of wtiicli they are not guilty. Who is 
to be benefited by their self-sacrifice, they know not — 
or may not know ! Whether any crime at all has 
been committed by a fellow-student they do not know, 
and do not enquire ! Whether the consequences 
which they apprehend, will follow from their exoner- 
ating themselves, they cannot know ! Their course 
of conduct will save the otfender, or it will not. If 
it save him, he escapes and they are punished ; if it 
do not save him, they share his fate without doing 
him any service ! Why this is monstrous ! Young 
men, you are not to forfeit the inestimable blessings 
of a liberal education, for any such refinements as 
these. You are not to encourage the idea that you 
are evil-doers, when you are not ! You are not to 
lacerate your parents’ feelings, to conciliate the blind 
votaries of a preposterous dogma ! I know that yon 
must have a will of iron and nerves of steel, to with- 
stand the sneers, the jibes, the taunts, the scorn of 
your college compeers. You can have no idea of 
their potency until they begin to threaten you. Why 
are such conservative agencies abused to the encourage- 
ment of vice and the terror of virtue! How has it 
come to pass, that wrong receives more favor in schools 
and colleges than anywhere else? How happens it, 
that every code of morals, human and divine, is 
reversed in these institutions? It is amazing, it is 
unaccountable ! But, my young friends, there is 
majesty and power in virtue, if she will assume her 
prerogatives, which will command respect and awe 
down opposition, even in colleges. Put yourselves 
under her guardianship, and with head erect and 
heart unawed, boldly meet the champions of vice, and 


302 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


yon are certain of victory, and of victory's richest 
spoils : a quiet conscience, approving teachers, rejoic- 
ing parents, mental culture, public favor, and lasting 
honor. Stand together as one man in the maintenance 
of right, be led by neither to espouse the wrong. 
Cultivate the friendship of the orderly, the pious, the 
studious, the intellectual. Have no fellowship with 
the idle, the dissipated, the boisterous, the prodigal. 
Treat them politely, but distantly. These are the 
characters who breed all the mischiefs in college. 
From such as these must have sprung up those moral 
monstrosities of which I have been speaking. The 
best code of morals for them is, of course, that which 
indulges vice and repudiates virtue. Take care of 
them 5 the faculty will judge you by the company you 
keep ; and if you would avoid the trying dilemmas ol 
which I have spoken, keep away from the vicious 
and the lawless. These are the ones who are arraign- 
ed for outbreaks, and their companions are the wit- 
nesses, if not the accomplices. Let cards alone ; let 
intoxicating liquors alone ! If you disregard every- 
thing else that I have told you, burn these seven words 
into your memory ; ^ let cards alone ; let intoxicating 
liquors alone P Let your recreation hours, and only 
your recreation hours, be spent mainly in female socie- 
ty ; preferring the pious and intellectual, to the light 
and volatile. Write home often, and when tempta- 
tions assail you, think of home. Do not get in the 
way of neglecting your college duties ; remissness is 
the first step to degradation. You all have your 
Bibles ; read them often — if not from a better motive, 
read them for your mothers’ sakes. And now, bow 
with me in prayer to God, that He incline your hearts 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


303 


to keep these precepts, and His own, which are far 
better, conduct you safely to your destination, pre- 
serve you, and bless you, during your sojourn at the 
seat of Science, and return you to us, endowed with 
its richest treasures !” 

The prayer was offered up, and the following morn- 
ing Mr. Markham bade his young friends a tearful 
farewell, saw them on their way to Savannah, and 
then turned his steps homeward. 

CHAPTEE XXIII. 

Three days staging placed Mr. Beach with his 
charge in Savannah, and an eight days voyage landed 
him in Xew York. He proceeded immediately to 
Newark, whence he wrote a letter to Mr. Sanders, 
concluding as follows: “Eeport our safe arrival all 
in good health, to Mr. Markham. He told me that 
the boys were raw, untraveled youths, whom he 
feared would give me much trouble; but I assure 
him that they gave me no trouble at all. So far from 
it, they sought every opportunity to relieve me from 
trouble. They seemed to contend for the pleasure of 
serving me. They are four of the most genteel, well- 
behaved, clever boys I ever saw. Instead of giving 
me trouble, they were a pleasure and delight to me 
all the way. As they were from the South, used to 
be waited on, and not used to work, (as I supposed,) 
I did expect to find them all a little lazy ; but they 
were ready to turn their hands to anything. On 
board ship they were all very sick, and as they had 
all been so kind to me, I took great pleasure in wait- 
ing on them. In two or three days they were all 
well, and ever since has been as hearty as bucks. 


304 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


T.hey are now at my house, quite the delight of my 
family. To-morrow and next day I shall take them 
over to see l!^'ew York according to promise, and the 
day after go with them to Basken Eidge and Prince- 
ton.^^ 

This letter of course went the rounds of the fami- 
lies most interested in it, and gave unspeakable satis- 
faction whithersoever it went. Mr. Beach fulfilled his 
promise. Markham, Thompson and Brown entered 
the Sophomore class without difficulty. It was exceed- 
ingly mortifying to William to find himself under the 
necessity of going through a preparatory course in 
order to enter the Freshman class, when his old 
school-mates were all honorably admitted into the 
next higher class ; and he determined to make 
amends for lost time by assiduity in study. The 
weather and the place favored his resolution, at least 
for several months, for he was kept in-doors from 
the cold, and there were few, if any, dissolute youths 
at Basken Eidge to tempt him to vice. His first 
letter to his mother spoke in highest terms of Mr. 
Finley and his ‘^charming family;’^ and the first 
letter of Mr. Finley to Mrs. Mitten was not less com- 
plimentary to William. At the end of five months, 
his teacher pronounced him fully prepared for the 
Freshman class, put in his hand a very flattering cer- 
tificate, and dispatched him to college. Instead of 
presenting his certificate to the President, and mak- 
ing application for admission into the Freshman class, 
he excogitated a brilliant scheme, not altogether 
original, to be sure, but highly creditable to his inge- 
nuity, whereby he was to get into the Sophomore 
class without the needful preparation for it. Thus 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


305 


thought our hero ; If I apply for the Junior class, 
they will have too much respect for my feelings to 
put me away down in the Freshman class, if they 
can possibly avoid it. Even for the Junior class, they 
will, in all probability, examine me upon those studies 
which I have been over, and here I shall acquit my- 
self so handsomely, that they will readily compromise 
matters, and let me into the Sophomore class. 
Accordingly he reported himself to the President 
with an air of great self-possession, as a candidate for 
the J unior class. The President, after gravely taking 
his dimensions with the eye, to the manifest terror of 
Master Mitten, said: ^^The Junior class, now more 
than half advanced ! How far have you advanced in 
Latin and Greek William answered. ^^In Mathe- 
matics He answered again. “Have you studied 
Chemistry, Astronomy, Natural and Moral Philoso- 
phy and Logic f ^ “No, sir !” “Under whom did you 
prepare for college Mr. Waddel and Mr. Finley.’^ 
“Mr. Waddel, of South Carolina, and Mr. Finley, 
of Basken Eidgef^ “Yes, sir.” “We have four 
students now in college, from Mr. Waddel’ s school, 
and ten from Mr. Finley’s, all of whom entered with- 
out difficulty. Did either of your preceptors advise 
you to apply for the Junior class f’ “No, sir, but 
I thought may be I could enter that class.” “Well, 
Master Mitten, I think, ^may be’ you can enter no 
class in college. I will give you a trial, however, for 
the Freshman class, if you can bring down your aspi- 
rations that low.” “Well, sir,” said William, with 
a spirit of accommodation truly commendable, “I’ll 
try for that class.” Here William’s usual bad Inch 
attended him, for his ingenuity had exposed him to 


306 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


agonizing mortification^ betrayed him into a falsehood, 
and, as he well knew, made the President’s first 
impressions of him very unfavorable. 

He was examined and admitted without difficulty. 
The President was curious to learn what sort of an 
examination he stood, and enquired of the examining 
professors. “Admirable” said they, wwa The 

President smiled, but said nothing. 

William followed Mr. Markham’s advice strictly 
through the Freshman year, and for four months cf 
the Sophomore year, and the consequence was as 
usual ; he stood at the head of the class. His letters 
to his mother were in the highest degree gratifying. 
He spoke gratefully of Mr. Markham’s last counsels 
to him, and promised to obey them to the letter j he 
expressed his admiration of the Faculty, particularly 
of those members of it who had charge of his class, 
in terms bordering upon the extravagance of praise — 
rejoiced that he had been defeated in his attempt to 
procure a clerkship ; and rejoiced still more that he 
now saw the error of his ways, and had radically 
reformed. One of his epistles he concluded in this 
language : “ When I think, my dearest mother, of 

the trouble I have given you — how I abused your good- 
ness, and disappointed your reasonable expectations, 
my conscience smites me, and my cheeks burn with 
blushes. How could I have been such an ingrate 1 
How could I have sent a pang to the bosom of the 
sweetest, the kindest, the tenderest, the holiest, the 
best of mothers ! Well, the past is gone, and with it 
my childish, boyish follies: they have all been for- 
given long ago, and no more are to be forgiven in 
fu.ure. That I am to get the first honor in my class is 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


307 


conceded by all tbe class except four. These four were 
considered equal competitors for it until I entered 
the class, and they do not despair yet ; but they had 
as well, for they equal me in nothing but mathematics, 
and do ^ not excel me in that. The funds that you 
allow me ($500.00 per annum) are more than sufficient 
to meet all my college expenses, and allow me occa- 
sional pleasure rambles during the vacation. What 
I have written about my stand in college, you will of 
course understand as intended only for a mother’s eye. 

Your truly affectionate and grateful son, 

Wm. Mitten.” 

William’s report of himself was fully confirmed by 
his fellow-students of the village. He wrote also an 
affectionate letter to Doctor Waddel, thanking him 
for his many kindnesses, approving of all his dealings 
with him, and censuring himself for the rejection of 
his counsels, and disobedience to his rules. Before 
this letter reached his old preceptor, William’s fame 
and prospects in college had reached the school, where 
all considered themselves interested in his reputation, 
and all rejoiced. At his home the rejoicing was more 
intense, and all the merchants of the place, and Mr. 
Sanders in particular, congratulated themselves that 
they had offered him no encouragement to become a 
merchant. There was one exception, to be sure, to 
the general rejoicing, in the person of old Stewey 
Anderson ; and he only suspended his joy j for he 
offered ^‘to give his promissory note, payable twelve 
months after date, for double joy, if Bill Mitten held 
on that long.” 

“Billy,” said Stewey, “is a Belair coltj he beats 


308 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


everything for a quarter, but he can’t stand a long 
run, Vm afraid; he’s entered now for the four mile 
heats, and I think he’ll break down about the second 
or third mile, sure.” There was something, too, that 
chilled the ardor of Dr. Hull’s delight, though no one 
knew what it was. But that he partook of the gen- 
eral feeling to some extent, was manifest; for he. 
never took a chew of tobacco and grunted when Wil- 
liam was praised. 

Up to the close of the fourth month of Master Mit- 
ten’s Sophomore year, he had almost entirely neg- 
lected Mr. Markham’s advice touching his recreation 
hours ; indeed, he hardly allowed himself any recrea- 
tion hours ; but occasional visits to a beautiful little 
Princeton lassie, by the name of Amanda Ward, re- 
minded him forcibly of his remissness in this particular, 
and he resolved forthwith to amend his ways. Miss 
Ward was not pious, but she was sprightly, witty and 
graceful ; and for her age (she had hardly entered her 
teens,”) she was not wanting in intellectual culture. 
William’s interest in her increased with every visit to 
her, and his recreation hours” began to increase 
with his interest. The necessary consequence was, 
that his study hours became more arduous. Still he 
maintained his reputation and his place in his class, 
with only a hardly perceptible change, in the i)rompt- 
ness and fluency with which he disposed of his recita- 
tions. Soon after his first visit to Miss Amanda, Wil- 
liam’s talents were made known to her, as well as his 
fortune, which was represented to be something under 
the square of what it really was. She was quite too 
young and too romantic to have anything venal in her 
composition, and, as his handsome person, brilliant 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


309 


talents and interesting conversation began to win upon 
her affections, she became touchingly pensive. By as 
much as she lost her vivacity, by so much did Wil- 
liam^ s interest in her increase. He loved her before, 
and now he sympathized with her deeply and ten- 
derly. It was a floating sympathy, to be sure, seek- 
ing like Noah^s dove, a resting place and flnding 
none ; but it was none the less* sincere on that account, 
and none the less appreciated by the lovely object 
over which it hovered, and diffused its grateful in- 
cense. Often from the gloom which overshadowed 
the dear Amanda, would she send forth mellow twink- 
lings, like those which sport upon the bosom of an 
evening cloud, and which would irradiate the counte- 
nance of her anxious friend for a moment j but he 
could not persuade her to reveal the cause of her 
depression. 

Under the combined force of love, sympathy, 
anxiety and suspense, William’s spirits forsook him, 
he became sad and gloomy, and study became irksome 
to him. Late sittings with Miss Amanda, and then 
much later sittings to make up the lost time, began to 
make inroads upon William’s health, and all his fair 
prospects would probably have been blighted before 
the close of the term, had he not determined to act 
upon conjecture as to Miss Ward’s anguish of mind. 
He judged, not without good reason, that it proceeded 
from love to him, and that she was wasting away 
under the consuming passion, because she supposed 
that it was not reciprocated. He resolved, therefore, 
with becoming frankness to unbosom himself to her 
and offer her his hand. Accordingly, at their next 
interview, he thus addressed her : 


310 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


^^Miss Ward, you know that I am not blind to your 
despondency, and, by a thousand proofs, you know 
that I am not indifferent to it. Believe me, that 
my oft repeated enquiries into the cause of it were 
prompted by a purer and holier motive than mere 
idle curiosity. No, Miss Ward, the heart which 
is not touched with the griefs of the gentler sex, 
must be insensible indeed ; such an one, I am sure, 
was never reared in the genial clime of the Sunny 
South. He who could obtrude a selfish curiosity into 
the hallowed sanctuary of woman’s sorrows, never 
breathed the balmy zephyrs which waft the odors of 
the magnolia and the orange. ’Twas sympathy. Miss 
Ward, which prompted my questions — an honest desire 
to share your griefs, if I could not relieve them. 
Your generous nature will appreciate my motives, 
and pardon one more question — the last, if answered 
negatively : Am I in any way, directly or indirectly, 
connected with your mental perturbations'? ” 

Torrents of tears from the eyes of the fair Amanda 
relieved her gallant suitor’s suspense, while she strug- 
gles for utterance with her irrepressible emotions. At 
length she spoke : 

Mister Mitten, your noble nature assures me that 
I may trust the dearest secret of my heart to you, 
without fear that you will ever betray the trust, under 
any changes of feeling, time or place. I frankly own 
that I am and have long been most ardently attached 

to you 1 have sometimes thought — hoped — that our 

attachment was mutual. Yet why did I hope if? 
when I knew that we never could be united ? ” 

^^Knew that we could never be united, my dearest 
Amanda? ” 


MASTERWILLIAM MITTEN, 


311 


Never, never, never ! exclaimed Amanda, bury- 
ing her face in her handkerchief, and sobbing convul- 
sively. 

“Then I am doomed to wretchedness for life I 
ejaculated Mister Mitten. “'Amanda, your are my 
first love 

“And you are mine, William. My first, my last, 
my only love. When you return to the land of birds 
and of flowers, object of my adoration, send back a 
thought to your poor, unfortunate, heart-broken 
Amanda.'^ 

“ Amanda, said William, in tears, “you said you 
would entrust the dearest secret of your heart to me : 
tell me then what insuperable obstacle there is to our 
union 1 

“I never violate my promise, deafest William, I 
am told tlxat you are very, very rich j and never can 
I consent to marry a man with whom I cannot be upon 
an equality — a man who must ever feel that he stooped 
to take his partner's hand ; and who may suppose that 
the poor trash of earth, called wealth, had some 
influence upon her choice. I should be the tnost mis- 
erable wretch upon earth, to discover in the being I 
adore anything going to show that he considered me 
his inferior, or capable of loving him for anything 
but himself.’^ 

“These noble sentiments,” responded Mister Mit- 
ten, “ exalt you higher, if possible, in my estimation, 
then ever. Know, then, thou sweetest, purest, noblest 
of thy sex, that I am not rich ” 

“Not rich? Don’t trifle with my feelings, Wil- 
liam I 

“I *iasure you, upon the honor of a gentleman, that 


312 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


I am worth nothing. My mother owns a very pretty 
estate, which, when divided between her three childreo, 
will give only a comfortable living to each of them.’^ 

‘^Oh, happiest moment of my life!^’ exclaimed 
Amanda. “William, there is my hand, and with it a 
heart that idolizes you, if you choose to take them.'^ 
receive them,^’ said William, “and exchange 
for them a hand and heart equally warm and unwaver- 
ing.^^ 

Their vows were plighted, and they separated in 
ecstacies. 

Fortunately for William this interview occurred on 
Friday night ; or it would have played the mischief 
with his next day’s recitation. 

The next day William visited Miss Amanda to 
arrange for the nuptials j and however indiscreet and 
rash we may consider the engagement, everybody must 
accord to them the highest prudence in settling the 
preliminaries of the nuptials. 

The arrangement was that Mister Mitten (so we 
must now call him, as he is engaged to .be married) 
should go on and complete his education, return to 
Georgia and spend two or three months with his 
family, then go to Litchfield, Connecticut, and attend 
Judge Beeves’ Law Lectures for one year, revisit 
Georgia, get admitted to the bar as soon as possible, 
return to Princeton, and consummate the marriage. 
Could old Parr himself, and a lady his equal in years, 
have ordered things more wisely ! As soon as mat- 
ters were thus happily arranged, Mr. Mitten said : 

“I have reflected a great deal, my dear Amanda, 
upon matrimonial engagements, and I have brought 
my mind to the conclusion long ago, that there 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


313 


is a radical error in regard to them, too common in 
the world. Let us reform it — at least as far as we can. 
I alude to the secrecy with which such engagements 
are kept by the parties to them 

Miss Amanda started Why, if the parties are 

sincere and mean to be constant to each other, should 
they object to the world’s knowing of their engage- 
ment? Were it generally known how few matches 
would be broken off ! When a man of honor would 
pay his addresses to a lady whom he knew to be 
pledged to another ! What woman of honor would 
receive the addresses of a man whom she knew to be 
engaged ! For my part, I shall make no secret of our 
engagement, aad then if any man dare to pay you 
particular attention, I shall hold him personally 
responsible ” 

^‘Oh, William, my dearest William, do not think 
of such a thing ! Our engagement must not be 
breathed to a human being — not even to father, mother, 
sister or brother. If our parents knew of it, they 
would certainly break it off if they could, on the 
ground of our age — Break it off! No, that can never 
be. Sooner will the moon cease to shed her placid beams 
upon the earth, sooner will this heart cease to beat, 
than your Amanda forget her vows, or human power 
make her break them. But think of the troubles that 
may follow the disclosure ! Oh, William, I cannot 
bear a frown, I cannot bear even a cold look from my 
dear, sweet parents ; and how would it rend my heart 
to see them frown on you or receive you distantly ” 

‘^And does Miss Ward suppose that her parents 

would object to our alliance ? ” 

No, no, William ; I’m sure they will be delighted 


314 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


with it, at the proper time ; but think how young we 
are 1 I have heard my father say that the man who has 
grown daughters in Princeton occupies a very delicate 
position. To forbid them to receive the visits of stu- 
dents would be to forbid them from receiving in the 
main, the very best society that they could have, and 
to violate the laws of hospitality ; but to encourage 
students in making love to their daughters, was injus- 
tice to the students, and treason to their distant 
parents. Now, if he knew that we were engaged, he 
would be almost certain to send me away to some 
boarding school — and what pain would that give us ! 
And suppose another should address me j do my Wil- 
liam think that there is another in this wide world 
who can make the least impression on his Amanda’s 
heart 1 Can you doubt your Amanda’s constancy? 
Can you fear that anything on earth could chill her 
first, her only love, in a few short years ? No, Wil- 
liam, whether you remain true or false, never, never, 
can I rove another. The very thought startles me like 
an electric shock. The keenest pang I ever felt was 
at hearing my mother say that my father was not her 
first love — I ought not to have mentioned it — I have 
never breathed it to another j but to you I may entrust 
it, for we are soon to be one From you I can con- 

ceal nothing. But what agony did the disclosure give 
me ; you’ll never mention it, William ? ” 

“Never, Amanda.’’ 

“ I felt for days, weeks and months, as if I were an 
orphan. Oh, how my heart sympathized with my 
dear, sweet father ! He knew it when he married 
mother. They live happily together. But it seems to 
me, the cruel, bitter thought must sometimes present 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


315 


itself, Hhis heart was once another’s — this heart was 
not always mine,’ and oh, what pain it must give ! 
And what is married life, if there be anything in it to 
interrupt, even for a moment, the constant stream 
of heavenly bliss which it promises to hearts united 
in the silken cords of pure, ecstatic, first-born love ! 
There, William, you are entrusted with every secret 
of my heart.” 

Mr. Mitten was so charmed with Miss Amanda’s 
sentiments, and enraptured with her eloquence, that 
he entirely forgot the text. He soon recovered it, 
however, and after thanking Miss Ward for her confi- 
dence, and promising to keep it sacred, he said : 

^‘Tinder all the peculiar circumstances of the case, 
my dear Amanda, I will consent to keep our engage- 
ment a secret 5 but, as a general rule, I think there 
should be no secrecy in such matters.’’ 

Mr. Mitten’s mind being now disburdened he re- 
sumed his studies with alacrity, and maintained his 
place to the close of the Sophomore year. The vaca- 
tion ensued, and the first five weeks of it Mr. Mitten 
devoted to Miss Amanda. He took her out almost 
daily on pleasure rides, lavished presents upon her of 
the most costly jewelry, books, engravings, and love- 
tokens innumerable ; and strange to tell Miss Amanda 
received them without rebuking this ill-advised waste 
of his humble i^atrimony. Nor was Mr. Mitten less 
attentive to the decoration of his own person than of 
Miss Amanda’s. He laid in a profusion of coats, 
vests, pants, gloves, stockings, boots, shoes, pumps 
and under garments, all at the highest prices, and in 
the most fashionable style. To his other purchases 
he added an elegant watch, chain, seals and key, and 


316 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


a handsome diamond breast pin. Many of these 
things were purchased upon a short credit, to be paid 
for as soon as he could get remittances from home. 
With all his accomplishments there was one wanting 
to make him perfect in Miss Amanda’s eye, and that 
was, ‘Hhe poetry of motion.’^ Herein Miss Amanda 
excelled, and she urged him to put himself under 
Monsieur Coupee, to add this to his many graces. 
She said that she was very fond of cotillon parties, but 
that they had lost all interest to her since she learned 
that he did not dance. He took her advice. As the 
poetry of motion,’^ cotillon measure, consists entirely 
of anapestics and dactyls, performed with alternate feet, 
Mr. Mitten soon mastered this accomplishment. Thus 
went olf the first month and a quarter of the vacation. 

With all his expenditures he had taken care to 
reserve money enough, as he supposed, to spend a few 
days in Morristown, a week in Newark, and a week in 
New York, without exhausting his funds. At the 
commencement of his sixth week of the vacation he 
set out for Morristown. Here lived a classmate of his, 
who insisted upon his spending a week with him. 
Mitten consented. A round of parties ensued, all of 
which he attended, and at all of which he played 
havoc with the hearts of the girls of Morristown. 
From his classmate the report soon spread through 
the village, that he was the first scholar in his class, 
and immensely rich. These things conspiring with 
his fine person, graceful manners, and agreeable con- 
versation, made him absolutely irresistible. Now there 
happened to be in Morristown at this time, a young- 
lady from South Carolina, of the Bethlehem School, 
who was spending her vacation with a relative of the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


317 


village, or rather making Morristown her headquarters 
for the vacation. Her name was Louisa Green, she 
was behind Miss Ward in nothing, and one hundred 
thousand dollars ahead of her in point of fortune. 
Miss Green and Mr. Mitten being both from the 
South, naturally formed a strong partiality for each 
other; of course it did not amount to love on William^ s 
partj but it amgunted to love palpably on Louisa’s 
part. As she was from the South, William felt him- 
self bound to pay her particular attentions. Accord- 
ingly he did all that he could to make her time pass 
agreeably during his stay in Morristown. He could 
but observe the tokens of her favor, and they awak- 
ened in him a tender compassion. She had appointed 
to visit a schoolmate in Elizabethtown, five days after 
the time when he was to leave for Kewark. He 
offered to wait and accompany her. This threw him 
five day’s longer on his friend’s hospitality, than he 
contracted for, but he was welcome. She accepted his 
offer thankfully. They went — he was introduced to 
her young friend, who prevailed upon him to spend 
two or three days in Elizabethtown. He consented — 
X^arties commenced on the second day after his arrival, 
and were kept up with but short intervals for nine 
days. The scenes of Morristown were renewed. He 
had set every day for the last six, for leaving Eliza- 
bethtown, but something or other always delayed his 
departure. The schoolmates of Elizabethtown planned 
a visit to a third, in Kew York, for a few days. As 
this jumped with William’s plans exactly, and i^rom- 
ised to make his visit to New York pleasurable 
infinitely beyond his anticipations, he proposed to 
accompany the young ladies. They accepted his 


318 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


proposition with pleasure. It required three days to 
prepare the young ladies for their contemplated trip, 
and these embraced the opening of the college term. 
Time had run off so merrily that he had not kept 
count of it, and he was thunderstruck when a question 
put to him about the college, reminded him that the 
term opened on the day before he was to leave with his 
fair companions for New York. What was he to dol 
Violate his pledge to the young ladies. That would 
never do. 

He determined to conduct them to New York, and 
hasten on to college. When he came to settle up his 
bills in Elizabethtown, he was thunderstruck again ; 
they were four times as large as he anticipated, and in 
counting up his cash, he found that he had barely 
enough to take him to New York and back to Prince- 
ton. The ladies were delayed a day beyond the 
appointed time by some accident. Mr. Mitten was in 
torments. It was certain that his funds would give 
out before he reached Princeton ; and here in a land 
of strangers, what was he to do % In this emergency, 
it had just occurred to him that he had been very 
remiss in not paying his respects to Mr. Beach, and 
he concluded to spend a part of the spare day with 
this kind friend. Mr. Beach hardly knew him when 
he presented himself at his door, so changed was he 
in every thing. After a visit of an hour, ^^Mr. 
Beach,^’ said William, “ I have been out spending the 
vacation, and my expenses have been so much heavier 
than I expected that I have got out of money ; could 
you favor me so far as to loan me thirty dollars, and I 
will give you an order on Mr. Sanders for the amoun t, 
or I will send it to you as soon as I get back to col- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


319 


lege.’’ Certainly William,” said Mr. Beach, ‘‘I 
will take the order, and if you pay it when you get to 
college, I will send it to you.” The money was loaned, 
and William returned to Elizabethtown rejoicing. 
On their way to New York he suggested to Miss Green 
that the college term had opened and that on the day 
after their arrival in New York, he would be compelled 
to return to college. She expressed her regrets that they 
must part, probably never to meet again, but hoped 
that they would renew their acquaintance, after their 
return home. William proposed a friendly corres- 
pondence ad interim. She said that she could not 
promise That, as the pupils of her school were for- 
bidden to correspond with young gentlemen j but if 
he chose to write to her she had no objections. On 
their arrival in New York, the news greeted them 
that on the evening of the next day two of the great- 
est tragedians of the age were to appear in the principal 
parts of Shakespeare’s Othello. William had never 
seen a play acted by professed performers, and as 
he had overstayed his time anyhow, and one day’ 
more could not make much difference,” he determined 
to prolong his visit that far, and take the ladies to the 
theater. He procured tickets for the three young ladies, 
but as the father of the one whom the others were 
visiting, chose to accompany them all to the theater, 
and furnish tickets himself, William had two on hand 
either to use or throw away at his option. He was 
transported with the performance. Hamlet was an- 
nounced for the next night j but as the ladies declined 
going to the theater two nights in succession, he went 
alone. Macbeth was announced for the next night j 
and as all the girls must see this play, they went as 


320 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEK 


before; William accompanying. The day following 
he left for Princeton, and reached there with just 
seventy-live cents in his pocket, 

His classmate of Morristown (Johnson by name) 
brought down his history to his departure from that 
village. He went off,’’ said Johnson, after a beauti- 
ful accomplished South Carolina heiress, worth a cool 
hundred thousand in cash, with IcinJcy-heads according; 
and he has only to stretch out his hand to her and 
she’ll snatch at it ; for everybody sees that she is over 
head and ears in love with him, as indeed all the girls 
in Morristown are ; for Bill is death among the pullets.’ 
This report mitigated the anxiety of his Georgian 
eompanions concerning him, but did not entirely 
relieve them ; for they feared the consequences of Wil- 
liam’s change of habits, not only upon his stand in 
college, but upon his future life. 

We have said that he had four competitors for the 
first honor, but there was only one of them that he 
had cause to dread, for though the five were equal in 
mathematics, there was but one who approached him 
in the other studies. This was Taliaferro (pronounced 
Toliver) of Virginia. When at the opening of the 
term, the class appeared to recite in mathematics, 
and Taliaferro found Mitten absent, his countenance 
kindled with delight. His delight increased with 
every recitation in this study, until it came to the 
fifth. As he retired from this he said triumphantly, 
<<I’ve got him safe — I’ve got this brilliant young 
Georgian just as the owl had the hen, so that he can 
neither back nor squall. With his head full of girls 
and fortune, if ever he keeps up with the class, and 
makes up five lost lessons, he is a smarter man than I 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


321 


think he is, and I think he is the smartest I ever saw.’> 
Taliaferro thus spoke because he well knew that a lost 
recitation in mathematics is almost as fatal to farther 
progress in the science, as the loss of one of the nine 
digits would be to enumeraton. And yet if William 
had determined to do it, he could have made up his 
deficiencies before the end of the Junior year, and 
thrown Taliaferro far in his rear in the Senior year. 
Why he did not, we shall see. When called to 
account for his absence he said ^^lie was necessarily 
detained.'’^ 

Having followed Mitten^ s movements during the 
vacation, let us now unveil some of his thoughts and 
reflections accompanying these movements. /^Here 
it is now,’’ mused he on the fifth day of his acquaint- 
ance with Miss Green. If Amanda had not made me 
promise to keep our engagement secret, I could now 
tell Louisa of it, and let her understand the true ground 
of my attentions to her ; but as it is, I must either be 
distant to her — which would be unpardonable in me 
as she is from the South — or I must encourage her 
attachment which is plainly visible and growing. 
Amanda will hear of my intentions through Johnson, 
and suppose I am after Louisa’s fortune. No, dear 
girl, fortune shall never make me sacrifice my word 
and my honor.’’ 

On the seventh day: ^^It was very indiscreet in 
Amanda to exact that promise from me, I don’t know 
how to act under it.” 

Ninth day: “Hang that silly promise! I’ll keep 
it, but I fear I shall never feel towards Amanda as I 
should have felt if she had not extorted it from me. 
I was too hasty in making it — in fact I was too hasty 
u 


322 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


in the whole matter. Well; whatever may come of 
it, I shall not forego duty to a Southern friend, far 
from home, because I happen to be engaged.” 

On the day he visited Mr. Beach : “ What a bother- 
ation it is to want money — I doubt whether Amanda 
will ever be satisfied to live in Georgia. I wish she 
was not quite so romantic. It was very imprudent in 
her to speak of her father and mother as she did to 
me — I don’t believe one can love truly but once ; I 
believe I could love Louisa just as ardently as I love 
her, If I would allow myself to do so.” 

On the day he left New York ; “ One hundred thou- 
sand dollars ! I wish I had fifty of it now. What a 
sum it is! Enough to last a man’s lifetime, and 
satisfy every desire of his heart. One hundred thou- 
sand dollars, and a beautiful intelligent lovely South- 
ern girl to boot ! Amanda ought to adore me for 
resisting such a temptation for her sake.” 

On reaching Princeton, he went immediately to see 
Amanda and found her in deep distress. She said 

she had been meditating suicide, but she could not 
leave the world without one more last, longing, linger- 
ing look upon her William.” Upon his assuring her, 
however, that he was not engaged to Miss Green, that 
he had not proposed himself to her, and . that he 
would have informed her of his engagement, if he 
had not been forbidden to do so. Miss Amanda was 
greatly comforted, insomuch that she concluded to 
postpone the suicide until a more suitable season. 
She entertained him with a melting narrative of her 
soliloquies and tears over breastpins, lockets and the 
like, which, as it came just at the time when he was 
terribly i)inohed for money, produced a double sym- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 323 

pathy or rather an oscillating sympathy, which 
played so equally between himself and Miss Amanda, 
that she could not understand it, and took it for cold- 
ness. They parted, however, with renewed profes- 
sions of love. 

Markham, Thompson and Brown, had together paid 
a short visit to Philadelphia, Trenton and Monmouth, 
early in the vacation, and returned to Princeton. On 
their return. Brown enclosed a fifty dollar bill* in a 
letter to Mr. Markham, saying: have saved this 

much out of my allowance without stinting myself in 
the least. If you think it would not be wrong to appro, 
priate it to my mother’s necessities, please deal it out to 
her as she needs. Apply all of it but what is absolute- 
ly necessary to keep my mother above want, to the 
schooling of my two little sisters. But if you think 
that I have no right to use the money in this way, 
please return it to the kind gentlemen who raised it 
for me ; and tell them that it is more than I need, and 
I think in justice it ought to be returned to them.” 

We need hardly say that this letter made John’s pat- 
ron’s feel much more like doubling than reducing their 
contributions to him. 

From New York William had written a letter to his 
mother, setting forth that he had greatly miscalcu- 
lated in saying that five hundred dollars per annum 
would be amply sufficient to pay his college expenses. 
Traveling expenses, he said, far exceeded his expecta- 
tions j that he had set out from Princeton on a vacation 

*At this time Jersey bank bills were just as current in Geor- 
gia as gold and silver. 

The first one dollar bill that ever was seen in Georgia was 
fiom a- Jersey bank. 


324 


MA81ER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


ramble, with money enough in hand, he thought, to 
pay his expenses three times over, and after visiting 
only three places, he was in New York with hardly 
money enough to pay his reckoning, and get him back 
to Princeton ; and there his board and tuition would 
have to be paid in advance. He concluded by beg- 
ging her to send him on two hundred dollars as speed- 
ily as possible. Here was the very place for him to 
have informed his mother that he had borrowed money 
from Mr. Beach, and to have informed Mr. Sanders, 
thi’ough her, how he came to draw on him. But he 
knew that it would mortify his mother exceedingly to 
learn that he was repaying Mr. Beach’s kindness by 
taxing his purse ; and he intended to stop the draft 
from going to the drawee, by payment of it. Brown’s 
letter had a fortnight or more the start of William’s, 
and its contents were known to everybody in the vil- 
lage in three days after it had reached Mr. Markham. 
When William’s letter therefore reached home, it 
alarmed and distressed his mother exceedingly. She 
gathered the money as soon as she possibly could, 
(borrowing a part of it) and dispatched it to William, 
with a letter eloquently expressive of her feelings : — 
^‘How is it, my dear boy,” said she, ^Hhat John 
Brown, with his limited resources, can visit Philadel- 
phia, Trenton and Monmouth, and yet send hither fifty 
dollars out of his income, to assist his poor mother, 
and school his little sisters ; and you cannot visit as 
many ifiaces without exhausting your funds and requir- 
ing two hundred dollars over?” The whole letter 
would fill every reader’s eyes with tears ; but we have 
not time and space for it here. By the shortest possible 
course of mail William could not receive an answer 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


325 


to liis letter in less than a month from its date. In 
the meantime he must be shut out of college, if he 
could not raise the tuition fees at least. His only course 
was to borrow. He went to his cousin David, who 
loaned him fifteen dollars, all ^^he had over,’^ as 
the merchants say. He went to Markham, and he 
readily loaned him twenty dollars, saying, ^Hhis is 
all I have, but to go Brown, I know he has over 
fifty dollars, for we compared notes when we got 
back to college.’’ He went to Brown and asked 
the loan of fifteen dollars. William,” said Brown, 
“ I would loan it to you with a great deal of pleasure, 
but I have it not — here are three dollars, all I’ ve got, 
which you are welcome to, if it will be of any service 
to you.” William looked on him furiously and said — 

Brown, if I don’t raise fifteen dollars, I can’t get 
back into college, and I know you have that much, 
and three times that much.” ^‘William, I give you 
my word and honor I have but three dollars in the 
world. How can you suppose that I would not loan it 
to you if I had it? If there’s anything I have, by sale 
of which you can raise the amount, go take it and sell 
it, with all my heart ” 

William wheeled off in a rage, and hastened to 
Thompson and Markham, saying, ^^Who could be- 
lieve it possible that John Brown would see me shut 
out of college rather than loan me fifteen dollars. He 
says he has but three dollars in the world ” 

“ John Brown says so !” exclaimed the two. 

^‘Oome,’’ said Thompson, let’s go and bring him 
face to face.” 

Away they went, and Brown, seeing them coming, 
turned pale as a sheet. 


326 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


Look at his countenance/’ whispered William. 

^^John Brown/’ said Thompson, ^^did you tell 
Cousin William that you hadn’t fifteen dollars in the 
world?” 

Yes, and I told him the truth ” 

^ ^Didn’t you tell George Markham and myself that 
you brought back from your travels money enough to 
pay tuition and board and leave you over fifty dollars 
in hand?” 

^^Yes I did,- but I have disposed of fifty dollars 
of it.” 

^^How did you dispose of it? ” 

I don’t wish to tell, but in a way that all of you 
would approve of if I were to tell you — indeed I do 
no know myself as yet, how it went ” 

^^Bid you ever hear ^uch chat,’’ said William, 
^^from anybody but an idiot since you were born! 
Disposed of it as we all would approve, aud doesn’t 
know himself how he disposed of it ! ’’ 

The boys wheeled off indignantly. 

^‘Stop, boys,” said Brown with streaming eyes, 
^^and I will explain- — ” 

‘^We want no explanation, sir,” said William. 

Dig a mole out of the dirt aud stick him on a steeple, 
and he’ll be a mole still.” 

No pen can describe John’s agony. He saw himself 
deserted by the sons of his benefactors — he knew that 
they all believed that he had lied, and he knew that be- 
fore the morrow’s sun it would be trumpeted all through 
the college that the bright Mitten was kept from his 
class by his meanness. In the midst of his horrors, the 
bell summoned him to his recitation. The class 
was arranged alphabetically, and his name was the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


327 


first on the list. The professor called on him 5 he rose 
tried to suppress his emotions, but could not ; and he 
resumed his seat, his bosom heaving, and his eyes 
streaming as though his heart would break. The class 
stood aghast, and the professor looked sad ; for Brown 
had not been remiss in a single college duty. Keen as 
was his anguish, it would have been aggravated 
heavily, but for George Markham’s prudence. 

‘‘Boys,” said he “it isn’t worth while to spread this 
thing through the college — at least let us wait awhile 
before we do it. Eemember that he is a Georgian, 
has been our intimate friend, and it will be flung up 
to us upon all occasions. And after all, I never knew 
John Brown to tell a lie in my life, and he may be 
enabled to explain the matter.” 

After some debate they agreed to keep the matter 
to themselves. That very day John received tidings 
of his father’s death, and as nobody thought of en- 
quiring as to the i^recise time when he received the 
intelligence, it was regarded by the class as the cause 
of his emotion in the recitation room, and by his three 
friends as an additional inducement to deal tenderly 
with him. Thompson borrowed the fifteen dollars for 
William, and he joined his class. 

Thus stood matters when Mrs. Mitten’s letter was 
received. As soon as William read it, he hastened 
to Thompson and Markham’s room with it, handed it 
to his cousin, flung himself into a seat, dropped his 
forehead, hands-covered on his knees, and wept bit- 
terly. Thompson read it, and passed it in sobs to 
Markham. He was not so much affected, and spoke 
first : 

“The Lord be praised that we kept our notions of 


328 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


John’s conduct from the college. Why this, and our 
coldness, and his father’s death all coming upon him 
at once, would have killed the poor fellow. He’s 
almost heart-broken, anyhow. What a warning is 
this to us against acting hastily in such matters ! Let 
us send for him, and relieve both him and ourselves 
immediately.” He was sent for, and as soon as he 
entered the room, they all rushed to him and embraced 
him together. ^‘Oh, John,” continued Markham, 
^^we know what you did with your fifty dollars, and 
we are all ashamed of ourselves.” 

‘^John,” said William, beg your pardon ten 
thousand times — ” 

'^And I.” 

''And I.” 

"John,” said William, "how could you say, you 
didn’t know as yet how your money went ? ’’ 

"Because I didn’t know that it would be right in 
me to take money raised for my education, and apply 
it to the use of my mother and sisters j so I sent it to 
Mr. Markham and told him, if he thought I had no 
right to use it in this way, to return it to the gentle- 
men who raised it for me, and I don’t know which 
way it went, even now, for Mr. Markham said noth- 
ing to me about it in the letter reporting my father’s 
death.” 

"John,” continued William, "I never shall forgive 
myself for my treatment of you. I had some apology 
for suspecting you of insincerity, but I had none for 
that vile, unfeeling, brutal remark of mine — ” 
"What remark, Williami” 

"About the mole.” 

"I didn’t hear that.” 


3IA8TER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


329 


^^You didn’t! Thank heaven, that you did not, 
but rt’s none the less mean on that account.” 

William paid the sums borrowed and his board ; 
and now the merchants, tailors, shoe- makers and 
jewelers began to press him. They always press at 
the opening and close of terms, because students are 
then commonly full-handed j but they had other 
reasons for pressing in this instance. The balance 
of his two hundred dollars, save fifteen reserved went 
in less than a fortnight, without paying more than 
fifty cents on the dollar of his debts. Youth-like, he 
thought more of the annoyances of creditors than of 
their respective claims upon his honor, and Mr. Beach 
was postponed to the most ravenous. Some of these, 
all of whom understand well the art of milking stu- 
dents, said, ^Hhat they were not in the habit of credit- 
ing students, but that everybody represented Mr. Mit- 
ten as such a brilliant, high-minded, rich and honor- 
able young man, that they would have trusted him 
for half their goods.” Others said, ^Hhat relying 
certainly upon payment at this time, they had con- 
tracted debts on the faith of it, and if disappointed, 
they did not know what was to become of them.” 
Another said, ‘‘K Mr. Mitten couldn’t pay him all, 
he would be very glad to get half the amount due, to 
keep his wife and children from suffering.” Thus 
they went on with every variety of experiment upon 
his feelings, until he began to think that his own 
character, the character of the South, and all Prince- 
ton, were likely to sink together in one common grave 
of indiscriminate ruin. Most of Mr. Mitten’s debts 
had been contracted within the past three months, 
and many of the students, well posted in such mat- 


330 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


ters, testified with becoming indignation, that such 
a thing was unheard of in the history of Princeton; 
as dunning students for debts but three months old ; 
and two or three proposed, in vindication of the time- 
honored usages of the place, to stone the windows of 
the importunate creditors; but Mr. Mitten, partly 
from the lights of Mr. Markham’s counsels, and partly 
from his own good sense, opposed all violent measures, 
as he could not see how these would sustain his credit 
or cancel his debts. But there were two specialties, 
which hurried the creditors ; the one was, that Mr. 
Mitten had promised to pay them at the opening of 
the term, and the other was, that Miss Amanda, 
either from love of truth, or the truth of love, had 
oorrected the popular opinion of Mr. Mitten’s vast 
wealth, and represented him, upon his own authority, 
as not only not very rich, but very poor. The tor- 
ments of creditors abated considerably the rapture 
with which Mr. Mitten was wont to view the orna- 
ments of Miss Ward’s person, interfered with his 
studies, and set his thoughts to running upon filthy 
lucre. He commenced his friendly correspondence 
with Miss Green. His first letter was exceedingly 
friendly. He waited the proper time for an answer, 
but received none. He wrote another, still more 
friendly, but received no answer. He wrote another 
in the very agony of friendship. To this he received 
the following answer : 

All your letters have been received. They have 
given the principal of the school great uneasiness^ 
and me great delight. He knows only whence they 
come— know you whither they have gone; into the 
most hallowed chamber of my heart. Mail your 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 331 

letters anywhere, but at Princeton; my answers will 
be returned through a confidante in Morristown. 

Your Louisa.’^ 

Thenceforward Mr. Mitten could hardly do any- 
thing but write letters. The two friends soon became 
so much attached to each other that they interchanged 
pledges of perpetual union. The ^‘hundred thousand 
dollars’^ were now safe, and college honors sank to 
insignificance in the estimation of Mr. Mitten. He 
studied only to graduate, and in the short space of 
four months dropped from the head below the middle 
of his class. The ^‘hundred thousand’^ were a good 
way off, and his demands for money were immediate 
and pressing. To meet the exigencies of the present 
time, he concluded to try his skill at cards with the 
^^Eegular Panel of Princeton. He was very suc- 
cessful, but still he forgot Mr. Beach. The club, of 
course, had refreshments, to counteract the effects of 
sedentary habits and constant watchings. They met 
at Mr. Mitten’s room, and, as he had been very suc- 
cessful, he was very liberal in his supplies of good 
cheer. The young gentlemen enjoyed themselves 
quietly until about one o’clock A. m., when they be- 
came rather troublesome to a professor in an adjoin- 
ing dormitory. The iDrofessor rose, dressed himself, 
and went to Mitten’s room door — listened awhile and 
knocked. 

‘^Walkin,” said Mitten. 

The professor attempted to open the door, but it was 
locked. A shuffling of feet, a moving of chairs, a rat- 
tling of glasses were heard, and the door was opened. 
The professor stepped in, found a table set out in the 
middle of the room, with two candles on it, burnt down 


332 


MASTER WILLIA3I MITTEN. 


nearly to the socket— two fellows on Mitten^ s bed with 
all their clothes on, fast asleep— two more in his room- 
mate’s bed, covered over with a counterpane, except 
as to the heel of one boot — another just undressing to 
go to bed under same counterpane (at least he was 
near that bed) — another seated at the table studying 
the Greek Lexicon — while Mr. Mitten, who opened 
the door, was pacing the room in manifest indigna- 
tion. Though not exactly intoxicated, he had stimu- 
lated his nervous system up to an unwonted degree of 
independence — while the professor was very coolly 
making his observations, (for he was a man of nerve.) 

^‘Well, sir,” said Mitten, I hope you have nosed 
about a dormitory in which you have no business, to 
your satisfaction. (Here one of the sleepers, whose 
face was to the lights, turned abruptly over with a 
sleepy snort j and the Greek student saw a funny word 
in the Lexicon at which he gave a little chuckle. 

^‘Not quite,” said the professor, calmly. 

“Well, sir,” continued Mitten, “I think I can con- 
vince the faculty, and if not the faculty, the trustees, 
that you have no right to be poking about another 
professor’s dormitory of nights.” 

“Maybe so,” said the professor coolly, still poking 
about. 

This was the Professor of Mathematics, who had 
repeatedly provoked Mr. Mitten by pressing questions 
upon him at recitation which he could not answer. 
This is considered very impolite in all colleges. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


333 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Alas ! for the stability of human happiness ! Just 
before the fatal vacation of which we have spoken, 
Mrs. Mitten was as happy as she could be on earth. 
Her two daughters had married men of worth, posi- 
tion and fortune, and were comfortably settled in 
counties adjoining that in which she resided. Her 
son, already distinguished, was on the high road to 
IDreferment, and her mind was at peace with her 
Maker and the world. What changes a few months 
more wrought in her destiny ! 

The events with which we concluded the last chap- 
ter, occurred on Friday night, running into Saturday 
morning. On Monday morning the faculty met and 
Mr. Mitten was summoned before them. 

Mitten,’^ said the President, ^‘you are charged 
with keeping a disorderly room — with keeping intoxi- 
cating liquors in your room — with drinking intoxica- 
ting liquors — with playing cards, and with insulting 
Professor Plus on Friday night last.^^ 

‘^ Ma^ I be permitted, enquired Mitten, ^ Ho ask 
upon 'vVhat evidence these charges are brought against 
mei^^ 

do not think, said the President, ^‘that you 
have a right to demand the evidence, until you deny 
the charges.’^ 

I hope,^’ said Professor Plus, ^Hhat I shall be per- 
mitted to put Mr. Mitten in possession of the evidence 
upon which the charges are founded, before he is 
required to answer them.’’ 

The President nodded consent. 

About twelve o’clock or a little after, on Friday 


334 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


night last, I was waked out of sleep by a noise in the 
dormitory adjoining mine. It was not continuous, 
but fitful, and therefore the more annoying j for with 
every intermission I flattered myself it would cease, 
and I would just get into a dose, when I was roused by 
it again. 1 endured it for about an hour, when I rose, 
dressed myself, went out, and found that the noise 
proceeded from Mitten’s room. I approached the 
door, and paused for a moment ; just as I reached it, 
I heard five thumps on the table in quick succession, 
followed by a yell and profane swearing. ^ But for Mit- 
ten’s Jack of Hearts,’ said a voice that I took to be 
Johnson, ‘ I should have taken the pool. He plays 
the devil with hearts.^ ^Eabb,’ said one, ^you were 
looed.’ ^No, I wasn’t,’ said Eabb, didn’t stand.’ 
^It’s Mitten’s deal,’ said another. ‘Ho, it isn’t,’ said a 
third, ‘he dealt last time.’ Here I knocked and was told 
told to walk in, but I found the door locked. After much 
shuffling and rattling of glasses, I was admitted. Upon 
entering the room, my olfactories were assailed strongly 
with the fumes of wine and brandy.” The professor 
proceeded with the details which we have already 
given the reader. 

“President S****,’’ said Mitten, “ suppose a profes- 
sor of this institution should take up a strong preju- 
dice against a student, should seek all opportunities 
of mortifying him and wounding his feelings, and in 
order to bring him before the faculty, plainly and 
palpably violate the laws of college— has the student 
any redress, and how ? ” 

“Mr. Mitten,” said the President, “our time is too 
precious to be occuj)ied with the discussion and settle- 
ment of hypothetical cases 5 but if you have been 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


335 


thus aggrieved, you should seek redress of the faculty, 
and if you do not find it here, you should appeal to 
the trustees. 

‘^So I supposed/’ said Mr. Mitten, ^^and I am now 
ready to answer the charges brought against me, and 
to lay my complaints before the faculty.” 

He now delivered a flaming speech, in a remark- 
ably fine style for one of his age. As to the first 
charge, he said that keeping a disorderly room,” cer- 
tainly implied something more than having disorder 
in his room for a single evening. So of '^keeping 
intoxicating liquors in his room.” As to drinking 
intoxicating liquors,” he said he would answer that 
with the last charge. He admitted there was card- 
playing, but asserted positively that there was not a 
bank bill, a piece of gold or silver staked on the game 
—that the pool spoken of consisted of nothing but 
button -molds. 

“Mr. Mitten,” said the President, didn’t those 
button- molds represent quarters, half dollars, or dol- 
lars, or some other denomination of money 1 ” 

“ Eeally, Hr. S****, I cannot see how little bits of 
bone could represent money. A bill represents money, 
because it contains on its face a promise to pay 
money f but — ” 

“Go on with your defence, Mr. Mitten,” said the 
President. 

“Before I answer the last charge,” continued Mit- 
ten, “ I beg leave to read a law of the college : ^ One 
of the Professors shall room in each dormitory, whose 
special duty it shall he to visit the rooms, and keep order 
therein! Kow, gentlemen of the faculty (I only address 
such) you perceive that Professor Plus had no rightito 


336 


MASIER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


visit rooms out of his dormitory. My dormitory was 
in charge of Professor Syncope, a man not more 
remarkable for his gigantic intellect than he is for his 
courtesy, kindness and easy familiarity with the 
students. lie heard no noise, ^ continuous or fitfuV 
He was not disturbed, and it is very strange that one 
out of the dormitory should have been annoyed and 
disturbed by noises kept up for near an hour, which 
one in the dormitory heard nothing of. I know 
that one professor may have much more sensitive 
nerves than another, and be much more given to 
watchings and other imbecilities, but these differences 
will hardly account for the wonderful fact, that the 
one should have been kept awake an hour by noises, 
which the other, more likely to be disturbed by them, 
should not have heard at all. But, admitting that 
Professor Plus was disturbed by the noise, and admit- 
ting that the noise was twice as loud and twice as long 
continued as it was, I deny his right to come into 
another professor^ s dormitory to Oppress it. The 
law is clear upon this point. The law says, that there 
shall be one professor in each dormitory ; Professor 
Plus says there shall be tioo — at least when he takes a 
nervous fit. How far his interference with Professor 
Syncope’s prerogative comport with courtesy and 
delicacy, it is not my province to determine ; but I 
have a right to see to it that I am not injured by the 
intrusion. While Professor Plus was in that dormi- 
tory, I regarded him as no professor at all — as having 
no right to enter my room. No one has a higher 
respect for the professors of this institution, than I 
have ; but when a professor so far forgets his high and 
dignified position, as to turn persecutor of those over 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. ' 337 

whom he is placed us a protector and instructor, to 
trample the law, of college under foot, to usurp 
authority which does not belong to him, to forget the 
comity due to his associates, to pretend to superhuman 
powers of the ^ olfactories,^ in distinguishing the odor 
of liquors assailing them at once and at the same time, 
to consort with owls, bats, wolves and hj^enas ’’ 

“Stop Mr. Mitten, said the President, “I cannot 
sit here and hear a professer so grossly insulted with- * 
out interposing for his protection.’^ 

“I mentioned no names,” said Mitten, “and if the 
cap fits ” 

“I hope,” said Professor Plus, smiling in common 
with the other professors, “I hope that the young 
gentleman will be permitted to finish his speech. 

I speak candidly and sincerely, when I say that I have 
rarely, if ever, had such an intellectual entertain- 
ment from one of his years. I will thank him how- 
ever, to explain to me, wherein I assumed the charcter 
of a ^persecutor,’ All the rest of his speech I under- 
stand perfectly, but as to this part I am wholly in the 
dark.” 

“You have called upon Marshall, Morton and my- 
self to recite oftener, than any other three students in 
the class,” said Mitten. 

“ I was not apprised of that,” returned the profes- 
sor, “though in all probability it is true. The class 
is alphabetically arranged, and I commonly begin 
the recitation first at one extreme of the list, then at 
the other, and then at the middle. It is frequently 
the case that there are not propositions enough to 
engage the whole class, and whenever that is the case, 
those near the middle will have to recite, no matter 
V 


338 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


at which end I begin. Now as Mitten’s name stands 
right between Marshall’s and Morton’s, and in the 
^middle of the class, I commonly begin at him, if I 
do not commence at either extreme, and if I go up 
from him, Morton will not be called — if I go down, 
Marshall will not be. This will explain the matter, 
and I am very happy to find that you have no other 
ground to base the charge of persecution upon than 
this. Time was, when Mitten regarded it no persecu- 
tion to be called on often to recite.” 

^^How much oftener have Marshall and Morton 
been called up than the rest of the class?” 

Once.” 

; And you?” 

Twice.” 

^^Mr. Mitten,” said the President, ^^you will retire 
if you please.” He did so, and in a few minutes he 
was recalled to receive the judgment of the faculty, 
which, without a dissent^ig voice, was that he be 
expelled. In delivering the sentence the President 
addressed him very feelingly — deplored the abuses to 
which he was subjecting his extraordinary mind, and 
exposed the absurdity of any student supposing that 
a professor could take up a prejudice against a moral, 
orderly student. He referred to a law, which Mr. 
Mitten had entirely overlooked, making it the general 
duty of all the professors to preserye order in the Col- 
lege, and see that its laws were obeyed. The Presi- 
dent having concluded, 

^^Hr. S****,” said Mitten, ^^will you favor me so 
far as to tell me what I am expelled for?” 

Certainly,” said the President; for keeping — or 
if you like the term better — for having a disorderly 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


339 


room ; for having and drinking intoxicating liquors in 
your room, for gambling in your room, and for grossly 
insulting a professor in your room, and still more 
grossly before the whole faculty.’’ 

Was there any proof that I drank liquor”’ 

‘^Ko positive proof, but quite enough to satisfy our 
minds of it.” 

Gambling implies that we played for money — was 
there any proof of that?” 

Abundant proof j but we have not time now to 
give the reasons of our opinion upon the several 
charges. Suffice it to say that you have not denied a 
single one of them ; and as for this one, we are con- 
strained to believe that six young gentlemen would 
not have set up till one o’clock in the morning play, 
ing for button-molds.” 

^‘But four of them had actually gone to bed, and 
another was undressing to go to bed when Professor 
Plus entered.” 

^^Yes, but they must have sat up very late; for 
they were so completely exhausted that they could 
not take time to undress ; and so sleepy, that between 
the knock at the door and the opening of it, they all 
fell sound asleep. They monopolized all the beds in 
the room, too, leaving you and your studious compan- 
ion no place to sleep ; which was exceedingly impo- 
lite, to say the least of it. And here, Mr. Mitten, is 
the end of questions and answers.” 

Mitten retired very much incensed, and appealed, 
not to the trustees, but to his fellow-students, for 
justice. Nine espoused his cause. They disguised 
themselves, serenaded Professor Plus with tin pans, 
liorns, ahd other noisy instruments, broke his win- 


310 MA8TER WILLIAM MITTEN, 

dowS; broke up his black-boards, and placarded him 
in various ways and places. Six were detected and 
expelled, of whom David Thompson was one. Three 
escaped for want of proof against them. Thus far 
Thompson had been hurried on by blind impulse j 
but now the hour of sober reason had returned, and 
he was overwhelmed with the troubles which gathered 
upon him. He was disgraced near the close of a 
creditable collegiate career. He had not money to 
bear his expenses home. He looked towards home 
with horror j for his mother was no Mrs. Mitten, and 
Mr. Markham was a faithful representative of his 
father, and there was the mortification of meeting his 
many friends and his father’s friends as an expelled 
student. As his troubles increased, so did his indig* 
nation against his cousin. William,” said he, “had 
you followed Mr. Markham’s advice, you would have 
taken the first honor in your class ; but instead of 
that, you have disgraced yourself, disgraced me, and 
got five more of your fellow-students expelled. Two 
of the three ring-leaders in the scrape have escaped, 
while the rest of us who did nothing more than join 
in the serenade are dismissed. Had Mr. Markham, 
been inspired, he could not have foreseen our difficul- 
ties clearer, or advised us better about them than he 
did. What benefit has our frolic been to you ? How 
much has it injured Plus ? You were justly punished, 
and you know it j and I know it ; and suppose you 
had been unjustly punished, how could such foolery 
as we went through better your case? Bad luck 
attends everyone who links himself to you. What 
am I to do? Pve not money enough to carry me 
home. ” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 341 

^^I’ve got nearly enough to carry us both home, 
and I can borrow 

And where did you get it? You won it j and I 

will not touch a cent of it 1’ 11 tell you what 

Tm going to do : Pm going to acknowledge my fault, 
promise strict observance of the rules of the college 

for the future, and beg the faculty to restore me 

there a man in whose veins the Thompson blood 
runs who can let himself down so low as that?’^ 

Yes, and I am that man. I have done wrong, and 
why not confess it ? I will confess it to everybody else 
who cannot help me j why not confess it to the faculty 
who may help me ? ^ ^ 

^^AYell, if you can truckle to men who have treated 
your cousin as the faculty has treated me, you can do 
so j but if you do, I can never feel to you again as a 
cousin ’’ 

“Well then, we shall be even, for I certainly do not 
feel to you as a cousin 

“You don’t 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Then, good morning, Mr. Thompson. You can 
shape your course as you please, and I’ll do the 
same.” 

Thompson followed his better judgement j and the 
faculty, in consideration of his previous good conduct ; 
that he had never been charged with an offence before 
— and that he was nearly related to Mitten, and there- 
fore exposed to the peculiar temptation from him, 
commuted the punishment from expulsion to three 
weeks’ suspension. He rejoiced at this good fortune, 
and thenceforward improved it through life. Two of 
his companions in guilt tried the same experiment j 


342 


3IASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


but as they had nothiug to recommend them to 
clemency, their sentence was unchanged. 

“And there is Nassau Hall justice/’ said one of 
them. Two students in precisely the same predica- 
ment, one expelled, and the other suspended for three 
weeks ! A glorious college this ! ” 

Mr. Mitten waited on Miss Ward, and informed 
her of “ the injustice that had been done him.’’ 

“It only gives me, dear William,” said she “an 
opportunity of proving the sincerity of my attach- 
ment. As the ivy cliags to the beauteous column, 
whether erect careening, or prostrate, so my heart’s 
affections clings to my William, through all the 
changes of life. There is a sweet comfort mingled 
with the bitterness of your misfortune, my idol ; it is, 
that the hour which is to unite our hearts in the 
golden chain ;of wedlock, will be hastened a full year 
and a half or more.” 

William looked up to the ceiling, as if he expected 
to see the gold chain up there ; and Amanda took his 
upturned face as an indication of heavenly aspiration, 
and ^v^ept. 

“I must tear myself from you, Amanda,” said 
William, presenting his hand and lips. She threw 
her arms around him, then he threw his arm around 
her. 

They kissed. 

‘ ^ Another, ’ ’ said Amanda, 

“ And yet another.” 

And then a long, long, “farewell ! ” 

She dropped her head on his bosom and wept. Wil- 
liam covered his face with his handkerchief, blew his 
nose twice, sympathetically, heaved theatrically, and 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


343 


waited a sign that the tragedy was over. But as no 
sign came, he said : 

^‘We must part, Amanda. I never shall forget 
you — your all- confiding nature, your tender, warm- 
hearted love.’^ 

Here an honest tear filled his eye, conscience stung 
him, shame reddened, his cheeks, and he gave her a 
strong, remorse-forced embrace, and tore himself from 
her, in truth. As he left the door, he muttered : 

^^Love like that deserves a better return. How 
sincere, how ardent ! How sweet her breath, how 
fervid her embrace, how eloquent her grief ! And yet 
they made no more impression on me, until I began 
to utter literal truths and mental lies as a return for 
her affection, than the dew-drop makes upon the flinty 
rocks ! Heavens and earth ! What progress I am 
making iniquity ! I am already a very devil ! A 
deceiver of those who love me most — my mother — 
Amanda — I must not reckon up my iniquities, or they 
will addle my brain, or drive me to suicide.” 

He reached his room, paced it a while in anguish, 
then seated himself and wrote : 

^^My dearest Louisa — ill health drives me from 
college ” 

Another lie ! said he, flinging down the pen and 
rising furiously. ^^How sin begets sin” continued 
he, with hurried strides over the room. 

It was long before he could return to his letter j and 
when he did, it was only to add : 

“To-morrow, I leave for Georgia, whence you will 
hear from me more fully and more affectionately, on 
my arrival.’^ 

“There,” said he, “there is my last lie, at least. 


344 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


I’ll go home, reform, marry Louisa, and lead a new 
life.” 

He set out for Georgia the next day, and reached 
home without delay or accident. The Sanford draft 
had preceded him just two days. His mother paid 
it promptly, and had just closed a long, tear-bedewed 
letter to him, when he rushed into the room, and 
advanced to embrace her. He did embrace her, just 
in time to save her from falling to the floor, for she 
had swooned at the first sight of him. Assistance 
was called, and she was put to bed. She revived, 
embraced her child and swooned again. The doctors 
advised him to retire from her bedside, until she 
recovered strength to receive him. So long did the 
second paroxysm continue, that even the physicians 
began to fear that life was extinct. She did revive, 
however, like one awaking out of a sweet sleep. 
Casting her eyes around the room, she whispered : 

^^Have they taken him away from me already 1” 

^^He is near at hand, Mrs. Mitten,” said a physi- 
cian, “and will be introduced again as soon as you 
bee .me a little more composed.” 

am perfectly composed now,” said she, in the 
same subdued tone, ^4et him come in. Do you know 
what brought him home so soon f’ 

“1^0, Mrs. Mitten, your physicians know better 
when you will be prepared to receive him than you 
do, and we hope you will put yourself under our 
direction.” 

^‘Certainly I will. Doctor. I am a poor, weak 
woman. I try to do right, but I am always doing 
wrong. Let it be as soon as you can. Doctor f but 
don’t yield your judgment to mine, for I have no con- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


345 


fidence in my opinions. I followed brother’s advice 
while he lived, and Mr. Markham’s after he died, and 
I don’t know what better I could have done. I feel 
a great deal better now, Doctor; don’t you think I 
am ? I think I could see him now calmly ; if nothing 
had brought him home.” 

One of the physicians withdrew to William’s room : 

William,” said he, ‘^for your mother’s sake I 
enquire of you, what brought you home so soon?” 

‘‘I was expelled from college,” said William. 
need not try to conceal it, for it must be known.” 

William,” continued the Doctor, ^4f you tell 
your mother tha^ I’m confident she will not survive 
it an hour. She has been declining in health for 
several months, and your sudden appearance to her? 
has brought her to the very brink of the grave ” 

^^Then, I suppose, to the long list of my lies, I 
must add another to a dying mother.” 
ij <<Why, William, you shock me!” 
ji “I wish heaven’s lightning would ^shoek’ me, even 
unto death. What I came into the world for, I don’t 
Jsnow, and the sooner I go out of it, the better for 
both the world and myself, I reckon.” 

? Compose yourself, William, and if we send for 
you, approach your mother with as much self-com- 
posure as possible ” 

\ Just here the Doctor was sent for in haste. He 
returned to Mrs. Mitten, and found her sinking, and 
begging to see her son. He was sent for, and his 
approach to her was with marvellous self-command. 

I She reached forth her arms to him, and he gently 
bent himself to their embrace. She held him long to 
ber bosom, a flood of tears came to her relief, and 


346 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


she brightened wonderfully. Eeleasing and gazing 
on him for a moment, she said : 

^^My dear boy, you are wonderfully improved in 
appearance.’^ 

By this time the room was thronged with visitors. 
The doctors requested them to withdraw, in order 
that Mrs. Mitten might be undisturbed, and if possi- 
ble, gain sleep. 

^^Let William and Mr. Markham remain,” said she. 

The rest retired. 

^^Mr. Markham,” said she, am very weak. I 
do not think the doctors know how extremely ill I 
am. Be as you have been for a few years past, and 
as you would have ever been but for my folly, a father 
to my boy ; and, William, regard Mr. Markham as 
your father, and follow his counsels in all things, 
Mr. Markham, pray with us. Give thanks for the 
safe return of my boy, and that I have been permitted 
to see him once more before I leave the world. What 
fortune brings him home so suddenly I know not, but 
it is good fortune to me, for without it I am sure I 
should never have seen him again. Give me your 
hand and kneel, William. Pray, Mr. Markham.’’ 

As they bowed, William thought of Mr. Markham’s 
parting prayer, and the counsels that preceded it, of 
his abuses of those counsels, and the bitter conse- 
quences ; and his bosom heaved with indescribable 
emotions. His mother' gave his hand a quick eii|- 
phatic pressure at every petition, which she would 
have him notice particularly. These signals of atten- 
tion became less and less sensible as the prayer pro- 
gressed, till just before its conclusion they ceased 
entirely — her grasx) relaxed, and her hand lay motion- 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


347 


less and almost lifeless upon that of her son. Mr. 
Markham and William rose, turned their eyes to the 
gentle sufferer, and saw on her countenance every 
mark of immediate dissolution. They called for the 
doctors — they came, and reached her bed just in time 
to hear her last words ; 

William — meet me in 

The sentence was never finished. The sweetest, the 
kindest, the gentlest, the holiest of the village was 
gone I We will not pretend to describe the scenes 
which followed. Her daughters and sons-in-law came 
but to pour tears upon her mortal remains, as they 
reposed in the coffin. The elder sister and her hus- 
band took charge of the house ; the other two remained 
a few days, and left for their residence. William took 
his room, and never left it for nearly a month, save to 
tread pensively the walks of the garden. At the end 
of a fortnight, he addressed a letter to Miss Green, 
reporting his mother^ s death, and telling her that she 
was the last and strongest tie that bound him to earth, 
and his only hope of heaven. In due time he received 
an answer, expressing the tenderest sympathy for him 
in his bereavement, and concluding as follows : 

I have been tormented by strange reports concern- 
ing you which I cannot, I will not believe, until they 
receive some confirmation from your own lips. I will 
not aggravate your griefe by repeating them now, 
farther than just to say, that if true, your last brief 
e]3istle from Princeton was untrue. 

^ ^ W ith unabated love, 

'^Your Louisa.’^ 


348 MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


OHAPTEE XXY. 

Miss Green’s letter filled Mitten’s bosom with hor- 
ror. What a thoughtless fool I was,” said he, ^Go 
write that useless lie to her ! I ought to have known 
that she would soon learn the true cause of my sudden 
departure from Princeton ! Why did I not forestall 
public report by a frank confession of the truth, and 
offer such j nstification of myself as I could ? True it is, 
that when a man turns rogue, he turns fool, and no 
less true is it, that .when a man turns liar he turns 
fool. It will almost take my life to lose Louisa ; but 
I deserve to lose her, that I may learn what it is to 
have one’s holiest feelings and brightest hopes trifled 
with. I will write to Louisa, make a frank confession 
of my errors, vow eternal divorce from them, and 
promise to be anything and everything that she would 
have me to be, if she will remain steadfast to her 
engagement.” He did so, and indeed, made the most 
of his case that could be made of it. The answer 
came : 

Mr. William Mitten— Sir : Your dismisal from 
college, and your misrepresentation to me, I could for- 
give ; but I never can forgive your addresses to me 
while you were actually engaged to Miss Amanda 
W ard. ^ ‘ Y our abused 

^ ^Louisa.” 

^^^All is lost!” exclaimed he, flinging down the 
letter. ^^How did she find out the engagement? 
Amanda herself must have informed her of it.” This 
was not true. The engagement came to Miss Green’s 
ears on this wise: Mitten’s attentions to Miss Ward 
were notorious j and her disrelish for any society but 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


349 


his was equally notorious. From these facts, the 
inference was drawn hy many that they were engaged. 
What was stated at first, as a matter of inference, soon 
began to be stated as a matter of fact. As it was con- 
tradicted by no one, it came to be regarded as a thing 
universally admitted. So Eumor bore it to Miss 
Green’s ears. The mischievous jade was no less cruel 
to Miss Ward than she was to Miss Green ; for she 
reported to her that Mr. Mitten was in regular cor- 
Sjjondence with Miss Green from his return to Prince- 
ton, to his departure for Georgia. Amanda drooped 
under the tidings— became sedate and pensive, gave 
her heart to One who better deserved it than her lover, 
fixed her adoration on the proper Object, moved among 
the poor and afflicted like an angel of mercy, lived to 
be universally beloved, kindly rejected many a wooer, 
and died smiling, where Mary sat weeping. 

The report went abroad that William had broken 
his mother’s heart. This was nearly, but not quite true. 
Mrs. Mitten’s health had begun to decline before Wil- 
liam’s troubles began, and it is probable that she 
would not have survived a month longer than she did 
had William remained at Princeton. But she had be- 
come uneasy at the silence of his college companions, 
concerning him, for some months past. The tone of 
Ms letters had changed alarmingly. Then his heavy 
drafts on her for money, increased her alarms. Then 
the Sanders draft added poignant mortification to her 
distressing fears and anxieties. All these things were 
wasting her away rapidly, when his abrupt appear- 
ance to her filled her with emotions which her feeble 
frame could not endure. His conduct certainly short- 
ened her days j but it could not with propriety be 


350 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


said that he broke her heart. Still so went the report, 
and it gained strength from his remarks to the doctor, 
which were overheard by a visitor, and went forth with 
exaggerations. The consequence was, that when he 
began to mingle with the villagers, there was some- 
thing so cold and distant in their greetings, so formal 
and cautious in their conversation, that he recoiled 
from their society, shut himself up in his room, 
brooded over his misfortunes for a time, became 
enraged at the treatment of his old friends, and with 
a heroism worthy of a better cause, he resolved to 
retaliate upon them. He went forth boldly among 
them, treated all coldly, and some rudely ; made 
advances to no one ; stepped loftily and independently, 
and resolved to hold every man personally responsi- 
ble to him, who had taken the liberty of using his 
name, otherwise than with the profoundest respect. 
The young gentleman had undertaken an Herculean 
task, but he deemed himself adequate to it, and acted 
accordingly. He called the doctor to account for cir- 
culating remarks make by him under great excite- 
ment and distress, which any man of common human- 
ity would never have thought of repeating.’^ The 
doctor declared that he never had repeated them. 
Mr. Mitten told him that “ it was not worth while to 
add the sin of falsehood to the sin of brutality, for no 
one else could have mentioned them.” 

Anderson’s remarks also became town talk, as soon 
as it was known that Mitten had ^^backed down ” iu 
the ^Hhird heat.” He went to Anderson in great 
rage. 

\ understand, sir,” said he, ^‘that you have been 
making very free with my name in my absence.” 


MASTEB WILLIAM MITTEK 


351 


Billy, I only said 

Don’t call liie Billy j sir ” 

^^Well, General Washington ” 

Stop sir ! But for your age, I’ d give you a caning. 
And, now listen to me sir : If ever I hear of your 
mentioning my name in any way, I shall forget the 
respect due to age, and give you a chastising, let it 
cost what it may. If you must expend your race- 
course wit, expend it on some one else, not on me.” 
When you undertake to chastise me,” said Stewy^ 
you’d better appoint your executors: for they’ll 
have to wind up the business.” 

Thus Mr. Mitten went on rectifying public opinion 
and purifying private conversation, until there were 
but five persons in the village or its vicinity who 
could venture to be upon terms of intimacy with him. 
These five, two old men and three young ones, conceived 
a marvelous attachment for them. They forced them- 
selves into his affections by a thousand kind sayings 
of him, and as many harsh ones of all who kept aloof 
from him. 

Never mind. Mitten,” said one of the ancients 
as soon as you get possession of your property, these 
very men who are shying off from you now, and 
whispering all sorts of things about you, will be truck- 
ling to you like hound puppies. They hate me worse 
than they do you, just because I always take up for 
you. I see how they look at me, every time^hey see 
me with you. I despise those old men who forget 
that they were once young, and make no allowance for 
a little wildness in young men.” 

“Well,” said a young one, “I’m glad to see Mit- 
ten’s independence. He is not beholden to them for 


352 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


anything, and I like to see him going his own way, 
and taking care of himself.’’ 

Mitten,” said a third, ‘^we are going into Thew’s 
back room to amuse ourselves with a game of cards 
for an hour or so ; where shall find you when we come 
out? ” 

Why,” said William, I’ll go in with you.” 

You’d better not,’’ said two or three voices at 
once. 

^^You might be tempted to play,” said Old Fogy, 
^^and when once a young man begins to play cards, he 
never knows where to stop. Could* you do as we do, 
just set down and amuse yourself for an hour or two 
and then' get ui^ and quit, why that would be all well 
enough j but young people are not like old folks.” 

^^Well,” continued William, ^^I’ll go in and see 
you play, but I will not play myself, for I have suf- 
fered enough from card -playing for one lifetime, I 
know,” 

Oh well, if you’ll do that, no harm done.” 

William went in, and kept his word. 

The same scene was repeated for a number of days. 
At length William began to spend his opinion upon the 
play of one and another, demonstrating by the doc- 
trine of chances that they were injudicious. 

It is lucky for us. Mitten, that you don’t play, or 
you’d soon leave us without a stake. We know noth- 
ing about book-learning, and just thump away after 
our old plantation way. Old as I am, I’d give the 
world if I only had your education.” 

Day after day rolled away in like manner. 

At length,” said William, ^4et me take a hand, 
and see if my theory holds good in practice.” 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


353 


no exclaimed half of them. He’ll beat 
us all to death. What do we know about the doc- 
trine of chances!’’ 

^‘Mitten,” said Old Fogy, don’t play. I’m an 
old man, and though I don’t know anything about 
chances, I know that the cards runs so sometimes that 
there is no counting on them. Now, you are a high- 
minded, honorable young man, and if you should 
happen to lose largely, you would be strongly tempted 
to refuse to pay, plead infancy, the gaming act, and 
all that sort of thing, even when you got able to pay, 
and I wouldn’t lose my good opinion of you for all 
the money in the country,’’ 

^‘1 hope, Mr. Fogy, you don’t think I’d do that.” 

‘^No, I know you’d die now before you’d do it, but 
temptations are hard things to get over. I talked just 
so to young Tickler, as honorable a young fellow as 
ever was born, and what did he do ! Why he won of 
me day after day, and week after week ; but when the 
cards took a turn in my favor he refused to i^ay the 
little nasty sum of one thousand dollars, when he was 
worth forty thousand. I never asked him for it till 
he got his property in hand, and then he said that I 
had tempted him to play and cheated him, and I don’t 
know what all. I wouldn’t have lost my good opin- 
ion of that young man for double the money.” 

Well,” said Mitten, “I am not anxious to play.” 
And he did not. 

Mitten’s company and back-room sittings coming to 
the ears of Mr. Markham, he warned William against 
his associates. He told him that they were a set of 
sharpers who would certainly ruin him if he did not 
abandon them. 

W 


354 


MA8TEB WILLIAM MITTEN. 


^^Mr. Markham/^ said William, ^Hliese are the 
only men of the village, except yourself, who have 
treated me with any respect and kindness since my 
return home. You mistake their character. They 
play cards, it is true, but so far from tempting me to 
do the same, they advise me not to do it ; and conse- 
quently I have not thrown a card since my association 
with them. I should be an ingrate and a fool to aban- 
don the only friends who stood by me when all the 
rest of the world abandoned me.^^ 

Mr. Markham told him their friendships were pre- 
tended, their professions unreal, and their counsels 
hypocritical. In short, he used every argument and 
entreaty that he could to withdraw him from these 
men, but all was unavailing. 

About this time his college companions returned, 
having completed their course. Brown had taken the 
first honor in his class, and Markham had taken the 
the third. Thompson graduated creditably, but took 
no honor. 

The day after their arrival Thompson presented 
Mitten a beautiful box. 

“ And who sent thisf ^ said Mitten. 

Open it and see.’^ said his cousin. 

He opened it, and saw all the jewelry that he had 
given to Amanda. On the top of it lay a small note 
of velvet paper prettily folded. He opened and read : 

^^Let them follow the heart of the giver. 

“Amanda.’^ 

^^How did she seem, David, when she handed it to 
you ?” 

“Heart-broken.^^ 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


355 


Yes, poor girl ! Had I remained true to her she 
would not have forsaken me, as all my colder friends 
have done. In a little time, now, I could have made 
her comfortable and happy, and for all time she would 
have made me happy. 

Tears rolled rapidly down his cheeks as he spoke. 

Mr. Markham turned over his school and the pro- 
fits of it to his son and Brown — he only retaining such 
a supervision over it as to pass it as his school. The 
first studied medicine, and the second law while teach- 
ing. In a little time Brown fixed up a comfortable 
little residence for his mother, and furnished it quite 
neatly. He gave his sisters the benefit of a good Fe- 
male Academy, and extended their education by his 
own private instruction. David Thompson became 
the head of his father’s family, and trod in the foot- 
steps of his father through life. William continued 
his unluclcy associations. 

One day, while he was looking on at the game of 
his friends : 

‘‘ Here, Mitten,’’ said one of the seniors, play my 
hand for me,” rising and going out. 

On his return, another addressed him, saying : 

Look here, old man, take your seat there and play 
your own hand ; we can’t play with Mitten.’’ 

Mitten had won ten dollars while representing his 
old friend. 

^^Lord,” said another, ^^what a benefit an educa- 
tion is in everything !” 

William now proposed to take a hand for himself. 

Well,” one said, we needn’t object on his account 
if we don’t object on our own, for there is no danger 
of his losing.” 


356 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


William played, and won a little. So did he for 
five or six sittings. Then his winnings and losings 
began to balance each other pretty equally. Then 
he began to lose regularly, but in small amounts — 
then in larger amounts. 

About this time Mr. Mitten made divers remark- 
able discoveries, to-wit : That whenever he lost, one 
of the old ones and one of the young ones lost, but 
they won in regular succession, so that, at the end of 
a week’s play, he owed (for they ^ Splayed on tick,”) 
each of them almost exactly the same amount. That 
though they often played against all the doctrines 
of chances, they were very sure to win. That the 
young one would frequently relieve himself from the 
fatigues of the game by inlaying the fiddle and walk- 
ing round the table, and, that so long as he played the 
fiddle, he (Mitten) was certain to lose. That the 
other two young ones lost and won occasionally, but in 
the long run were like himself, losers , and that their 
losses like his own were the equal gain of the other 
three. 

l^ow prudence dictated that he should quit this 
clique, but he was largely over a thousand dollars in 
debt to the trio, and he could not gain his consent to 
do so until he recovered his losses. At a convenient 
session he took his follow-sufferers aside, informed 
them of his discoveries, and proposed to them that 
they should play in co-partnership against the other 
three only till they got back their money.” They 
readily assented to his proposition, and William in- 
doctrinated them in a set of signs, offensive and 
d3fensive, that in a better cause would have im- 
mortalized him. He cautioned them to wait the 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


357 


signal from him before they put any of their plans of 
attach in operation, and in the meantime, to act wholly 
on the defensive. 

The parties met, and Old Fogy entertained the com- 
pany with an account of his early adventures at the 
card table, in which was this passage : lost, and 

lost, and lost. Dollar after dollar went, and negro after 
negro. I bore it all like a man until I had to sell my 
favorite servant, Simon. This was tough, but I had to 
sacrifice him or my honor, so I let him go.’’ 

The club took their seats. Two hours rolled away, 
and the seniors gained nothing from the juniors. 
The fiddler got fatigued and took his fiddle. The 
juniors, as if by accident, hid their hands every time 
he walked behind them. He soon got rested, and 
resumed his seat. At twelve o’clock at night, the 
juniors being a little winners, Mitten got too sleepy 
to set any longer, and the game closed. Five sittings 
ended nearly in the same way to the utter amazement 
of the seniors. 

The young rascals have found out our signs,” said 
Old Fogy, we must make new ones.” 

They did so. Mitten discovered it in about three 
deals. 

“This is a piddling sort o’ business,” said Fogy ; 
“let’s play higher.” 

William had not only concerted his signs in a 
masterly manner, but he had a way of communicating 
to his partners the most important signs of their 
adversaries as soon as he discovered them. While he 
was making his discoveries his party lost a little. 

“I don’t like to raise the stakes when I’m losing,” 
said William, “but luck must turn soon, and that 


^58 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


be the quickest way of getting back my losings^ 
and I believe I’m willing to play a little higher.’^ 

Old Fogy put up the stakes very high^ and William 
^ave the signal for attack with all his armory. In less 
than an hour, the corn (representing money) was 
streaming from the Fogy party in a perfect sluice. 
Mitten lost to his partners two hundred dollars, and 
the Fogies lost to them from five hundred to a thou- 
sand each. At one o’clock, A. m., Mitten rose from 
the table saying : ^^That his brain was so addled he 
couldn’t play ; and that if he could, such a run of luck 
would ruin the best player in the world.” 

It would be both interesting and instructive to the 
young, to trace Mitten’s progress step by step in 
gaming, until he became a most accomplished black- 
leg ; but our limits will not allow us to do so. He 
was in rapid progress to this distinction, when Miss 
Flora Summers, daughter of Colonel Mark Summers, 
who resided five miles from the village, returned 
home from Salem, H. 0. She was an only child, 
handsome, agreeable in manners, of good sense and 
well improved mind. William visited her, and so did 
John Brown, now admitted to the bar and practising 
with brilliant promise. The Colonel received Brown 
with great cordiality, and William with distant civil, 
ity. Flora reversed things exactly. The Colonel 
was not surprised at her preference, but before it had 
time to ripen into love, he thus addressed her ; My 
daughter, it may be that Mitten and Brown will be- 
come suitors of yours. I do not say to you, in that 
event, marry Brown, but I do say to you do not marry 
Mitten, if you would save yourself and me from 
misery intolerable. You know his history in part. 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


359 


If he did not break his mother’s heart, he hastened 
her death. He has rendered himself odious to all 
good men, and become the associate of gamblers. 
And yet he is a young man of handsome person, fine 
address and fine talents. These endowments are apt 
to win upon a girl’s heart j but surely my daughter 
can fortify her heart against dangerous impressions 
from such a man as Mitten. ’’ 

Yes, pa,’’ said Flora, ‘‘ I can and I will. I assure 
you that I will never give my hand to William.” 

Then, without feigning an attachment that you do 
not feel, give him the earliest opportunity of declaring 
himself, and let your refusal be respectful but de- 
cisive.” 

will. It will cost me no difficulty to refuse 
Mitten j but I don’t think I ever can love John Brown. 
Dear me, pa, he is so ugly ! ’’ 

“ Well, my child, be that as you would have it. I 
certainly shall not urge you to have Brown or any- 
body else. Your choice will be mine, provided your 
choice does not light upon one of despicable charac- 
ter.” 

Mitten repeated his visits, and was received more 
warmly by the Colonel than at first. In process of 
time he declared himself and was positively rejected. 
Brown continued his visits too, but at much longer 
intervals. His fame in the meantime was constantly 
growing. His manners were not wanting in polish, 
and in intellectual endowment he now far outstripped 
Mitten. His visits for five or six months seemed only 
of a friendly character. He read well and talked 
well, and was both a wit and humorist j but he never 
wounded by his sallies. Flora soon became satisfied 


360 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


that John had no idea of courting her, and she threw 
off all shyness and became upon terms of easy and 
agreeable familiarity with him. John spoke freely 
and playfully of his own homeliness ; told amusing 
anecdotes about it, and spoke of it in such ways as 
made Flora laugh heartily. A single examj^le : After 
they had become as intimate as brother and sister, 
there was a pause in the conversation one day, and 
John, after a deep sigh, said : 

“Well, Fd give a thousand dollars just to know for 
one hour how an ugly man feels.’’ 

Flora laughed immoderately. 

“Well, John,” said she, “ I think you might for a 
dollar know how such an one feels for a lifetime.” 

Then John roared. Thus matters went on until 
Flora began to feel that John’s society was a very im- 
portant item in her life of single blessedness. She 
met him with smiles and parted with him — not exactly 
in sadness, but with an expression of countenance and 
“good-bye,” which seemed to say, “John, it’s hard 
to part with you, you pleasant, ugly dog.’^ 

Still John never whispered love, while everybody 
spoke his praises. 

About this time Col. Summers got into a lawsuit, 
that alarmed him greatly. He emj)loyed Brown, who 
disposed of it, on demurrer, at the first term of the 
court. At his next visit to Flora, she expressed her 
gratitude to him very tenderly, and added, “John, I 
hope some day or other we will be able to repay the 
obligation that we are under to you.” 

“Why, Miss Flora,” said John, “it’s the easiest 
thing in the world for you to cancel the obligation and 
make me the willing servant of you both 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


361 


^^How, Johnf' 

Why just let your father give his daughter to me? 
and you ratify the gift. 

Flora looked at him and blushed, and smiled, looked 
serious and said : 

Are you in earnest, Johnf ’ 

In just as sober earnest as if I were preaching.’^ 

John, I don’t believe you love me.” 

^‘Yes, I do. Miss Flora, as ardently as ever man 
loved woman, but until recently I believed my love 
was hopeless, and therefore I concealed it, or tried to 
conceal it, for I know you often saw it.” 

^^Why, John, you astonish me! — Go, ask pa, and 
if he gives me to you. I’ll ratify the gift. I might get 
a handsomer man, but I never could get a more worthy 
one.’’ 

As to my beauty,” said John, why that’s neither 
here nor there. One thing is certain about it, and 
^hat is, that it will never fade.” 

Well, John, if we live ten years longer, I am sure 
J shall think you handsome ; for your features have 
been growing more and more agreeable to me, ever 
since you began to visit me. 

^^Well, Miss Flora, if they are agreeable to you — 
tolerable to you, it is a matter of perfect indifference 
to me what any one else thinks of them. Anothe^^ 
great advantage you will have in marrying a homely 
man, and that is, you will not be exposed to the com- 
mon torments of the wives of handsome men.” 

^M’m not so sure of that, John. Splendid talents, 
renown and fascinating manners are much more apt to 
win the admiration of our sex than a pretty face.” 

^Mf you see all these things in me. Flora, you see 


362 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEK 


more than I have ever seen. As you are getting in 
a complimentary strain, I’ll thank you to ask your 
father in ; for though I bear compliments with great 
fortitude, they always embarrass me, and when com- 
ing from you, they give me a peculiar drawing to the 
lips that utter them.” 

“Well, how do you know but they would bear the 
drawing with great fortitude, too?” So saying, she 
bounced to her room and left him alone, saying as she 
flitted away, “I’ll send my father to you and listen 
how you draw to each other.” 

The Colonel soon made his appearance. 

John looked at the Colonel, put his right leg over 
his left, took it down again and patted his foot. The 
Colonel took a chew of tobacco, cleared his throat and 
looked at John. John cleared his throat too, coughed 
twice, blew his nose and looked at the carpet. John,” 
said the Colonel, “Flora said you wished to see me.” 

“Yes, sir,” said John, “I have long had a warm 
attachment to your daughter — and I thought if I 
could gain your assent to address her ” 

“To address her ! Why, she says you are engaged 
and only want my consent to get married. If that 
is the case, you have my consent freely. There is 
not a man in the world that I would prefer to you for 
my daughter.” So saying, he retired. 

Flora immediately re-entered, laughing immoder- 
ately. “Well John,” said she, “I don’t think you 
had much of a ^ drawing^ to pa.” 

“Confound this asking for daughters!” said John, 
I’d rather ask forty girls to marry me than one father 
for his daughter. I never acted like such a fool in all 
my life I” Three weeks from this date, John Brown 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


363 


and Flora Summers became one, and remained one in 
the best sense of the term, through life. Indeed, Flora’s 
opinion of John’s looks underwent a great change. 

Mitten surrendered himself to cards ; distinguished 
himself among gamblers for his shrewdness, and actu- 
ally made money by his calling, until he was arrested 
in his career by that disease so common to gamblers, 
and so fatal to all, consumption. When he found the 
disease fastened incurably upon him, he took his room, 
his mother’s bed room. The old family. Bible was 
there. She had often said, that at her death she 
wished it to go to William, and there it was left for 
him. He opened it, found in it many traces of his 
mother’s pen, scraps of i)aper with texts of scripture, 
holy resolutions, prayers, Christian consolation, and 
the like, written on them. He closed the book, pressed 
it to his bosom, and wept bitterly. Dearest, best of 
women!” soliloquized he. ‘^What a curse have I 
been to thee 1 What a curse have I been to myself I 

One fault thou hadst, and only one . No, I must 

not call it a /a — one weakness, shall I call it? No, 
that is too harsh a term for it. One heavenly virtue 
in excess, thou hadst too much tenderness for thy sou. 
But why do I advert to this ! When I reached the 
age of reflection and self-government this very thing 
should have endeared thee the more to me — should 
have made me more resolute in reforming the errors, 
which thy excessive kindness produced. But oh, how 
impotent are human resolutions against vices which 
have become constitutional ! Tom, go for Mr. Mark- 
ham.’’ 

Mr. Markham came, and found William with his 
head on his mother’s Bible, bedewing it with tears. 


364 


MA81ER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


He raised his head, reached his hot hand to his friend, 
and after some struggles for utterance, said : 

“ Mr. Markham, yon have know me from my child- 
hood to the present moment, you have marked my 
every step in the pathway of ruin — you have seen 
me abuse and torture the best of mothers, reject the 
counsels of the best of uncles, and the best of friends, 
multiplying sins to cover sins, insulting men for dis- 
approving of what my own conscience disapproved, 
avoiding the good, consorting with the depraved, 
prostituting heaven’s best gifts to earth’s worst pur- 
poses — in short, assimilating myself to the devil, as 
far as it was possible for me to do so ; now tell me, my 
dear friend, do you think it possible for such an 
abandoned wretch as I am to find mercy in heaven ? 
In making up your answer, remember that I never 
thought of asking mercy, and i^robably never should 
have thought of it, had I not seen Death approaching 
me with sure, unerring step.’^ 

^^Oh yes,’^ said Mr. Markham, you are not beyond 
the reach of mercy ; provided you seek it in the way 
of God’s appointment.” 

“Be pleased to instruct me in that way ; for I am 
lamentably deficient in knowledge of the Bible.” 

“Well, in the first place, you cannot expect mercy 
unless you ask for it. If you ask for it you cannot 
expect to have your request granted, unless you per- 
form the conditions upon which such request is to be 
granted. Now these conditions are (the essential 
ones) that you show mercy to every human being that 
has offended you ” 

“That is but reasonable.” 

“You must freely, and from your heart forgive 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN. 


365 


every one who has trespassed against you. You 
remember you infantile prayer.’^ 

^^Yes, but I never understood it, until this mo- 
ment.’^ 

‘^You must seek to be reconciled to every one who 
has aught against you.’^ 

The hardest condition of all. I can forgive those 
who have injured me j but how shall I ask peace of 
those whom I never wronged? 

God never wronged you, did He? And yet He 
asks you to be reconciled to him.’^ 

Wonderful ! ejaculated William, thoughtfully. 
You would not come to me, William, and ask a 
favor of me, and at the same time say, ‘ I ask it, but I 
do not believe you will grant it,^ would you?’^ said 
Mr. Markham. 

‘^No, that would be to insult you to your face.’’ 
Neither must you ask favors of God, believing that 
He will not grant them. You must ask, believing in 
His goodness, His word, and His promises, i. e., you 
must ask infaith.'^ 

Perfectly just ! ” 

^^If you were to ask a favor of me, and I should 
say come again, I cannot grant it just now j would 
you turn away from me in despair, and never ask me 
again?’’ 

“Surely not.” 

“Then do not show less confidence in God than you 
have in me. If he does not answer your prayers as 
soon as you expect, pray on and bide His time.” 

“Well, God helping me, I will follow your counsels 
this time, to the day of my death. Pray once for me, 
thou heaven-born and heaven-directed man.” 


366 


MASTER WILLIAM MITTEN, 


Mr. Markham prayed with him, as if his ^4ips were 
touched with a live coal from off the altar. 

William, now gave himself to prayer and reading 
the scriptures. He sent for all within his reach whom 
he had offended, or who had offended him. Freely 
forgave, and was freely forgiven. Two, three and 
four months the disease spared him ; but he found lit- 
tle comfort. At the beginning of the fifth he found 
peace ; rejoiced for a month more, preached power- 
fully to all who came to his bedside, and with his 
last breath cried : “Mother, receive thy son 1’^ and 
died. 

Thus was the career of William Mitten ended'^ 
ended ere he had reached an age at which life is 
hardly begun. He was indeed a youth of brilliant 
talents, rendering it probable, had they been properly 
cultivated, for his attaining much prominence in his 
section of the State ; but he ignored good advice, an(i 
gave heed to only the evil infiuences that surrounded 
him. 

May it not be hoped that the prayer which, issued 
from his lips as he was about to breathe his last found 
an answering echo on the other shore, and that the loy- 
ing spirit of his mother was able to meet that of her 
son in Paradise. 









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